Shadows Play
by Un tango mas
Summary: Altern.6th year.Voldemort finds out about Snape's Vow to Narcissa and punishes him for his defiance by blinding him.For his own reasons,Dumbledore decides it's best for him to adjust in Grimmauld Place.Hermione is there during his stay.Eventual SS/HG.
1. Prologue So it begins

Author's notes

Copyright J. K. Rowling

About the story…it will be an alternative 6th year which will be partly based on the cannon "Half Blood Prince", but will have a lot of changes and a focus on different characters, namely Hermione Granger and Severus Snape. However, it won't really be a romance…yet.

* * *

**Shadows Play**

_Prologue - So it begins_

The girl looked outside across the grounds of the castle. She had reached one of the towers despite his warning to stay away and now she could see everything from her window. She could see the green mark floating above the tower to her right, but that was not where she was looking. As the wind blew through the broken glass of the window, tangling her hair even worse, her eyes swept across the dark scene before her, searching.

But they could not find what she wanted to see. A fire near the forest and flashes of coloured light were the only things to shine through the night. Instead, her eyes turned towards the other tower. It looked so out of place, reflecting the green light of the swirling mark. She would have to go there eventually but not yet, not yet. She wasn't ready to know.

Her eyes moved back to the field but it was completely dark now. The wind carried voices and smoke towards her and she closed her eyes.

'And so the play begins,' she thought. 'The curtains are lifted but the stage is covered in mist. And everyone will be blind to the truth…everyone but me.'


	2. Chapter 1 Darkness Falls

Chapter 1 – Darkness Falls

"_Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it."  
__Terry Pratchett _

He did not feel the cold as he walked through the empty corridors, nor did the darkness bother him; he did not need to see the way to know where he was going. No, it was not the darkness around him that bothered Severus, it was the darkness within.

The chilly winter air did nothing for his troubled thoughts tonight, but in all honesty, few things still managed to ease his mind, if any at all. Still, he walked on, asking himself for perhaps the millionth time _'what will come of this'_, of the future, of his world. Everything had gotten so much out of hand, more than he had feared; he knew this now, after his _conversation _with Draco the other night¹. What had that boy gotten them all into? What had _he_ gotten himself into? Certainly more than he had gambled for.

But there was no answer in the quiet castle, no sound, until Severus' gasp broke the silence. He stopped, frozen despite the burning pain in his arm. Slowly, he moved his right arm to roll up the sleeve of the left. _Why was he being summoned?_, he wondered, looking at his arm, where he could barely distinguish the mark in the dim light, but he knew it was there, he could feel it.

_Something__ has happened_, he thought. There wasn't supposed to be another meeting until the end of the month, until the last night of the year; it had become a _custom_ for them to gather on nights when the spirits were restless or the magic stronger, and lately that meant at the end of the month: October 31st, November 29th and now December 31st.

Severus dreaded to think what the cause for the dark lord's unexpected summon was. He had to inform Dumbledore about it though, before he left. But he took no more than three steps when the searing pain in his arm intensified. Whatever the reason for this call, it was urgent. He turned on his heels, heading for the way out instead of the Headmaster's office. He didn't even stop as he conjured his patronus and sent a message to Dumbledore; Severus hurried outside, to the castle grounds.

The Headmaster's night had been equally restless, but he did not have the habit of walking through the corridors to set his thoughts in order. He sat in his office, staring at nothing in particular. But while his body was as still as a statue, there was a storm in his mind. All his thoughts vanished, though, as a bright light invaded the room. _Severus' patronus…_, the headmaster thought, just as it began to talk in Severus' voice: "I have been summoned and must leave immediately." With that, it vanished, exposing Dumbledore to an even stronger interior storm. He did not remain still now, though; he took a few slow steps which lead him to the windows. It had stopped snowing outside, everything was still covered in snow and the small flakes were shimmering softly in the moon light. But the headmaster did not notice the beauty of the fairy-tale-like landscape; his eyes were searching for something else entirely. And it was not hard to find him in the mass of white: a black figure walking towards the gates, towards the border between safety and danger.

As the gate shut behind him with a soft clang, Severus closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths and focused on clearing all compromising thoughts from his mind, summoning adequate memories to its forefront instead. A moment later, he disappeared, disturbing the perfect silence with the sound of apparition and reappearing in an almost identical setting: trees heavy with their burden of snow, an equally white gate and a barely distinguishable pathway leading towards an impressive building. Severus couldn't help but notice the snow on the lane: it was undisturbed; there were no footprints other than his own. So he was either the first to arrive, or the only one to be called… But he did not ponder the meaning of this any longer; he hurried forward, through the gate and the manor's grounds.

The only sound he could hear on his way was the soft squish of snow beneath his boots. Everything else was quiet and dark, no light shone from the windows. Severus remained calm though, until he reached the massive front door which did not open before him. He hesitated a few seconds and then pushed it open himself. The manor was unlit inside, something Severus had never encountered before. It was quiet, dark and deserted, with no trace of a meeting. He was unsure what to do and slightly worried by the uncommon atmosphere, but Severus didn't stall long. He walked along the familiar hallway which led to the main dining room, where all their meetings were usually held.

The way was unlit but Severus still managed to distinguish the objects around and was surprised to see the empty paintings hanging on the walls, with no haughty figures following his every move. He looked at the heavy door for a moment, before reaching for the handle. It opened soundlessly as he pulled it. Severus blinked a few times to adjust his eyes to the light in the large room. It wasn't very bright, but there were several candles casting their warm, yellow light inside. His eyes immediately fell on the only other person in the room, the dark lord, sitting in his usual high chair. Voldemort was looking back at Severus, observing him as he quickly closed the door behind himself and took a few steps into the room, returning his attention towards his master. Neither of them spoke or moved and Severus was not asked to sit.

"I thought perhaps you would not come, Severus" the dark lord finally said, his expression blank.

"Forgive me, my lord, but I was…unprepared for a meeting" he answered, looking straight at his master, willing him to see the truth of his word. "That is why it took longer for me to arrive."

Voldemort did not say anything to his excuse and apology. Instead, he purposefully glanced around the room and then back at Severus.

"You are wondering, I am sure, why we are alone tonight. Why I have summoned you" he said and it was clear to Severus that he would soon learn the reason behind it all. He watched the dark lord, as he sighed theatrically and glanced down at the wand he was slowly turning in his pale, thin fingers. And then, the first words Voldemort spoke raised Severus' alarm.

"I'm afraid, Severus" he said, "that I have discovered something that is not to my liking. Not to my liking at all."

The blank mask had now vanished from the dark lord's face; he was angry and Severus could think of nothing he had said or done to raise suspicions.

"I do not like it when my servants disobey me, Severus" Voldemort continued. "Nor when they interfere with my plans, when they take measures I did not allow and then hide them from me." His voice had taken a sharp edge, tinted with fury.

"You do not know what I mean, Severus?" he asked. "Oh, but surely you must. Can you think of nothing you have done without my knowledge or consent?" and Severus finally understood what the dark lord knew, but not how he had found out. Surely Narcissa would struggle to keep the secret, and Belatrix…well, Belatrix might betray _him_, but her own sister too?

"What made you think you could interfere with my orders, Severus?" Voldemort spat. "It was not _their_ place to tell you about the boy's task, but _you_, you agreed to meddle. Did you not realise that you were not meant to know? That I was testing that _weakling_? But of course you knew all that, Severus, you are quite intelligent." He moved his hands over the armrests, gripping them tightly. His red eyes seemed to be blazing with rage and Severus couldn't help but lower his glance, his mind working fervently to formulate an acceptable excuse while he silently listened to the dark lord's tirade.

"You knew and yet you deliberately chose to disregard everything. Why was that, Severus? And why did you hide it from me?" he asked rhetorically. "Because you also knew it would anger me. Do not think I will condone this, Severus. I have granted you my trust and you have thrown it into my face. I do not take such an offence lightly." Voldemort paused there, letting his words sink it and Severus took the opportunity to attempt to salvage whatever appearance he could.

"My lord, it was never my intention to disobey you" he said, lowering himself on one knee, his voice repentant and remorseful. "I…I simply couldn't help but see an opportunity to help a friend; I saw an opportunity to serve you, I saw –" but his next words were left unspoken, as the dark lord silenced him with an angry raise of a skeletal hand. Severus bowed his head.

"You see too much, Severus" the dark lord hissed. "You see Dumbledore and Potter, but you see _me_ as well, my Death Eaters, our plans." Severus wanted to protest, to say that he was one of _them_ too, but Voldemort did not let him.

"And how observant you are, Severus" he drawled. "Yet, lately, you have not used this sense; not to my benefit, Severus." He stood from his chair and a feeling of foreboding settled upon Severus' mind. He could see the dark lord from beneath his lashes.

"Yes, you see too much, Severus. _Far_ too much."

The menace in the high pitched voice sent a chill through Severus' body. He lifted his head as he caught a slight movement before him and his eyes widened in shock. Voldemort was staring straight at him, his wand pointing towards his face. But there was no flash of light, no curse, until the dark lord's mouth moved soundlessly. Despite his dread, Severus felt a strange fascination towards this unknown spell: a thick, dark mist was emanating from the tip of Voldemort's wand, contrasting with the caster's ghostly white hand. But Severus was unmoving in his shock, even as he saw the black smoke drift towards him, he could only blink and stare. He finally drew back slightly, but how was he to stop the dark lord? It was too late. A sharp gasp escaped his lips as the mist reached him, drawing into his eyes, but he couldn't blink against it, against the searing pain that burned his eyes.

And then everything was as black as the mist. Severus couldn't tell how long it had all lasted, mere seconds or perhaps hours. He did know that he had fallen to his side at some point; he could feel the cold floor beneath the palms of his hands. He tried to blink, generating a new wave of pain as his lids glided over his eyes. He blinked again, and again, tightening his jaw against the pain, but the darkness was not dispelled. The room was so quiet that he could hear the quickening of his heartbeats. _Was he alone?_ He focused his attention on hearing, trying to distinguish a sound, anything at all.

"It's difficult, isn't it, Severus?" the dark lord's voice sounded, breaking the silence and startling him. "But I'm sure you will manage, you will…_adjust._" Severus did not need to see the sneer that spread across the dark lord's mouth in a sinister expression; it was there, in the mocking tone of his voice too. He did not know what to do or say, feeling completely uncertain and weak.

"You may leave now, Severus. This will be _all_ for this _meeting_" Voldemort spoke. "But it will only be the beginning, shall you continue to be so useless and interfering. You will _not_ return here, you will _not_ answer my summons to the Death Eaters and you will most certainly _not_ regain your sight until you will have something to offer me in stead." He stopped his speech shortly, observing the man before him.

"And make no mistake, Severus. If I shall not be satisfied with the information you will bring me, I will take away another one of your senses" he added. "So choose the time of your return carefully."

Voldemort left then, accompanied by the sound of rustling fabric, as his long cloak swept the floor behind him. It took Severus a few moments to allow a certain thought to rise from the subconscious. _Blind_. He was blind. Somehow, he still could not believe it, even as he moved his hands before his face and saw _nothing_. The dark lord had told him to leave; to leave and not come back. But would he be able to stand and walk and find his way back to Hogwarts like this? He wished he could convince himself that it was all a dream, a nightmare…but he knew better than to allow such delusions. He needed to think clearly now, to raise his mind from its state of shock and disbelief, to find a solution.

Severus breathed in deeply and focused, remembering where exactly he stood in the large room. He had only taken a few steps inside so the door had to be mere meters behind, to his right. He lifted himself from the floor, despite his protesting muscles and the feeling of vertigo, still too proud to crawl on his hands and knees. A couple of shaky steps later he raised his hands, only to hit them against the wall. So he was closer than he had thought initially. Severus moved along the wall until he felt the carved wooden door beneath his fingers. As he pushed it open, he tried to envision the hallway that lead to the manor's entrance. It was quite long and he knew it would be difficult to reach the other set of doors without incident. He moved slowly, arms outstretched and waving before him, trying to walk straight.

He wasn't sure what distance he had walked, feeling completely disoriented, when he finally decided to stop. The door had to be somewhere to his right yet again and if he could reach a wall, it would be easier to find the door as well. He turned, ever so slowly, but his next step was followed by a thud as his leg hit against something. Severus held back a curse, lowering his arms instead and reaching for the obstacle. It was quite small, possibly a chair, Severus thought, but he couldn't remember it or place it in his mental image of the hallway. He sighed and tried to walk around the unknown object, arms still outstretched in front of him, one lower than the other now. A small amount of relief washed over him, as he reached the wall and leaned against it for support and direction.

Severus had to avoid another piece of furniture before he finally reached the door. He could feel the cold from outside as he pulled the door open and walked out, breathing in deeply, letting the winter air cool him. _How would he find the gates now?_ Severus asked himself. He ran a hand through his hair and felt the familiar tug of his sleeve as it moved over his wand. He almost snorted then. _Was he not a wizard?_

Severus sighed and pulled the wand from his sleeve, holding it tightly for a moment before he let it lay on his palm and performed a more complicated point me charm. The wand moved, pointing towards the gates, Severus hoped, as he followed its direction, walking slowly through the snow. He was indeed relieved to feel the cold metal bars a while later. Grasping his wand and lifting the other arm, Severus passed through the gates, just as he always had.

It seemed, though, that this trial would never end for him. _Would it be possible to apparate?_ Surely blindness could not affect that; he could still _see_ the castle in his mind, with its large gates and the forest. No, it had to work, he would not get splinched, and besides, there was no other way he could think of to travel to Hogwarts. But once there… Severus pictured the uneven grounds of the castle, the rocks and trees, all the stairs and statues inside the building…and worst of all, the people. He sighed again, crouching slowly.

He had no idea how long it had been since he had left Hogwarts, and he wasn't exactly sure what time it had been then either. Perhaps it was already morning, and most of the students would be leaving, making their way to the train station. Oh, and what a parting show he would offer them all, stumbling and faltering with every step. He would not make a fool of himself if he could help it. But a disillusionment charm would not hold through the apparition and he could not be certain it would effectively hide him either way. Severus straightened himself, mind made up. He was going to risk apparating before the school's gates and if he would hear anyone around he would disappear again.

He focused on his destination, hesitating for only a moment before he turned and vanished. He nearly lost his balance when he apparated, confused by both darkness and silence. But the silence was a good sign and he had made it unscathed, Severus thought, as he strained to listen for any sound at all. Nothing but the soft rustling of wind and the occasional creak of wood reached his ears though and he finally exhaled. Of course, this could also mean that he had apparated to the wrong place…

Directing himself with another pointing spell, Severus stepped forward, trying to concentrate on both walking and listening. He drew his hand back at first, as his fingers touched cold iron, only to take hold of the metal bars a moment later. Severus leaned his head against the gates and closed his eyes, but there was no change, still the same darkness. _Almost there_, he thought, tired and defeated, as he let his body slide down the bars and into the soft, cold snow.

He conjured his patronus and knew the spell had worked, he could feel its presence before him. "I require your immediate assistance at the entrance gates" he whispered, sending the spectre to the headmaster. And then he waited, holding his head between his hands. He wished he could stop thinking, stop the turmoil in his mind. So many questions drifted through it, replaced by others in an instant, but all tinted with the same sense of desperation. It was, of course, no wonder that he did not hear the slow steps through the snow, nearing him.

"Severus?" the headmaster's voice sounded, surprised and concerned.

And Severus looked up towards him. He wondered, then, how long this darkness would envelop him and how much exercise would be required to stop himself from turning towards a person he could not see.

* * *

Author's Note:

¹ The conversation on the night of Slughorn's Christmas Party, in which Severus tries to find out what Draco will do to accomplish his _task_.

- November 29th, or the night before St. Andrew's Day, is linked to old superstitions in some European countries (mine included). The spirits of the dead are believed to rise on that night, searching for their relatives, and it is also a night appropriate for magic rituals. I suppose it's a sort of equivalent of Halloween.

- A point me charm/spell usually points north, but I'm sure it could also show the direction to a specified place/object.

I hope it wasn't a boring chapter…despite of all the descriptions and the introspection. Opinions, suggestions and criticism are always welcomed!

By the way, I must share a sort of joke with you. I read this "definition" on a quotations page and thought it was quite amusing:  
"Shin: A device for finding furniture in the dark."

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	3. Chapter 2 This Space Will Be Too Small

Chapter 2 – Soon this space will be too small

"_There are none so blind as those that will not see."  
__Proverb_

Everything was waking to life with the morning light, reclaiming its colour and texture from the night's darkness. The sky was a mixture of blue and flaming red where the sun touched the horizon, its rays reflecting on the earth's surface. There were no clouds to be seen, and yet it appeared to be snowing as the wind lifted the flakes in a wild, twirling dance. It would soon be far too bright outside, the snow's whiteness increasing with the sunlight.

But Severus' mood could not be gloomier, the darkness before him profounder. He had learned a long time ago that one can rarely escape the things one fears, but this was certainly a situation he could avoid, would he be given the opportunity. And yet it seemed that once again he was forced to follow orders. Severus was beginning to regret his decision to send for the headmaster. He couldn't tell how long they had been locked up in Dumbledore's office, discussing what had happened and what was to be done. For his part, Severus had wished for nothing other than solitude and a bed, but the headmaster's plans had turned out to be quite different.

He had, of course, expected questions, but he had deemed the time it would take to reach his quarters sufficient for explanations. Yet there he was, Cronos knew how many decades later, in Dumbledore's office – _arguing_. Albus had finally accepted the fact that the curse the dark lord had used was unknown to him as well, that he could not reverse its effects for the time being. He had convinced himself that Severus was not otherwise harmed or in pain. His concern would have been appreciated, were it not for his blasted decision to _help_.

"This will surely be very trying for you, Severus" he had said, and Severus had suppressed the urge to ask Dumbledore, if he knew the meaning of the word _truism_¹.

"I think it would be best for you not to be alone until you become more accustomed with…everything; or until we find the counter-spell" the headmaster had continued, raising Severus' suspicion.

And then he had decreed the unthinkable, the unbelievable: he thought Severus should stay at the Order's headquarters during the winter holidays. Hogwarts was too large and perilous for his _condition_, and Dumbledore insisted that it would be easier for him there.

Severus had brought every single counter argument he had thought of, but neither his desire to be alone and tranquil, nor his _dislike_ of the 'residents' and former owner of Grimmauld Place had persuaded Dumbledore that it was a _bad_ idea, good intention be damned.

So there they were, as the morning advanced, still contradicting each other in the headmaster's office. Severus' head pounded as he once again stated that he would manage things perfectly on his own.

"Very well, Severus. I suppose that reaching your quarters would pose no difficulty to you at all, then?" Dumbledore challenged.

Severus' nostrils flared and his frown deepened, but his expression was otherwise unreadable as he slowly rose from the chair he had occupied, across the headmaster's.

"Winky" he said, his voice as stern as usual. The house elf appeared before them immediately and bowed.

"Sir has called Winky" she began. "How canst Winky help sir?" She looked at Severus expectantly, confusion marking her features as she saw his unfocused gaze.

"I would like you to take me to my quarters, Winky" he answered, his back still turned towards her, but before the small elf could take a step, Dumbledore interjected.

"No, Winky" he told her. "There are still some things I must settle with Severus. You can help him afterwards. I will call you then." Winky looked from one wizard to the other, uncertain for a moment, before she disappeared.

"Severus…" The headmaster, too, stood, walking closer towards the other man. Severus could feel him nearing, but his rigid stance remained unyielding.

"If you are there, with them, with the Order during our meetings, they will see you _differently._" His voice was pacifying now, all the relentlessness gone. "Your sacrifice will be obvious even to those most unwilling to see it before. They will see that what you do comes with great risk and that you do it nevertheless, that you are beyond doubt on _this _side. They _will_ see all that."

"And what will _I_ see, Albus" he asked derisively.

Dumbledore sighed desolately as his eyes looked up towards Severus'.

"They will trust you." But Severus didn't for a moment consider his assertion.

"I do not need them to trust me" he replied, anger and fatigue mingling in his voice.

The headmaster returned to his seat, lowering himself into it before he rested his face in his hands. But Severus was still unmoving.

"_I_ need them to trust you, Severus" he admitted. "They are not fools, no matter what you think and perhaps this trust will lead them to question your motives for different reasons when I will be gone."

"Do not speak of such things" Severus demanded. "All that has yet to happen is uncertain."

But the headmaster shook his head.

"You _must_ consider it" he insisted. "You cannot refuse to acknowledge what an immense difference one person could make – one person who would continue to trust you, one person who could be your link to the Order, to Harry."

Silence followed his statement, but Albus could feel that Severus' resolve was fissuring. And two words were all it took to shatter it completely.

"Please, Severus…" he whispered.

Severus closed his eyes. He let out a long breath as he sat back down but he didn't say anything for a while. Dumbledore was doing it again, manipulating him, he knew it, he could recognize it. And yet how could he refuse his plea? Perhaps it was destined for him to never live a tranquil, content moment in his entire life, Severus thought deprecatorily.

"One week" he spoke defeated. "I will stay there one week; the other one I will return here, to Hogwarts."

The headmaster's eyes lost their tension. "Thank you, Severus" and his voice really did sound grateful.

"I am supposed to accompany the children to London today" he continued after a few moments of silence. "Please come with us. Molly and Arthur will be there to look after them and I will personally talk to all of them, explain everything and ask them not to intrude on your space" Dumbledore promised, but Severus loathed the thought that they would all know about his state of weakness as much as he loathed the thought that he would have to spend a week _there_, with _those_ people.

But at least now he could have a few hours to himself. Albus said he would personally go down to his quarters when the time to leave arrived, not that such a gesture mattered to Severus. The headmaster called for the house elf, who took the professor to the quiet refuge of his bedroom. And yet, there was no place for him to hide from the darkness. It would be with him wherever he would go and he did not know for how long.

'_And__ now the spectacle resumes'_, Severus thought, as he once again tried to find his way, through his own room this time, knowing very well that he must look ridiculous, waving his hands before him, walking with unusual slowness and insecurity. It was not the loss of vision that Severus despised most, but the feeling of helplessness that it evoked within him. And so many would be witness to this vulnerability; that was exactly what he dreaded and what he would have to face. The house would be cramped with Weasleys and Potter and his friends. Perhaps he should even ask to have Black's old room, Severus thought darkly.

It didn't take him too long to find the bed though, and he laid down in it, stretching his aching muscles. He would not be able to sleep at all, Severus knew that. Whenever he wished, whenever he _needed_ to sleep, his mind would be too active; too many thoughts would build in it, driving tranquillity away. But there was nothing Severus wanted to think about, not now; it was not time to give in to despair. Perhaps, in a way, going to Grimmauld Place would have its _benefits_ – it would keep him focused on something other than the pathetic act of self-pity, Severus reflected. He sighed deeply, as his fists curled in the duvet beneath him.

…………

'_Far too early'_, Hermione thought, as she watched the sunrise unfurl. She was bound to be tired today, because she knew she would not be able to fall asleep now no matter what. '_Well…a sleeping draught would probably do it'_, she amended sarcastically. She glanced around the room, smiling to herself as she took in the silence and the rosy light of morning. This was probably the only time the dormitory was so quiet. Of course, the fact that she and Ginny were the only two Gryffindor girls still there meant that it would be quiet all the time. But they would soon leave as well and then the Tower would be empty. Hermione tried to remember if it had ever been this way during Christmas holidays before, with all students away.

Well, since she was now awake, Hermione thought, she might as well make use of her time. She pushed herself in a sitting position, fluffing the pillow as quietly as possible before she leaned back on them. Several books still rested on her nightstand and it was a simple matter of reaching out and taking one to read. Hermione smiled again contentedly – there were few things she enjoyed more than this and she was grateful for these moments, despite the fact that she had not slept long enough.

She couldn't tell how many minutes or hours had passed in this manner before Ginny stirred in her bed. Hermione glanced at the younger girl over her book, watching her as she stretched. They didn't have much in common, Hermione thought, but despite all the differences they had become closer with the passing of every year.

"'Morning" Ginny said sleepily, still stretching her arms, attempting to dispel the remnants of sleep.

"Good morning, Ginny."

Ginny yawned in response, lifting her shoulders from the bed, only to crash back into the pillows the moment after.

Later, it was all a blur of washing, dressing and last minute packing until the two girls finally descended to the common room, where they were to meet Harry and Ron and go to breakfast together. Hermione very nearly snorted when she took in the boys' dishevelled appearances. Their eyes were closing on their own accord, arms hanging without vigour and hair unkempt. She was surprised to note that they_ had_ remembered to bring their suitcases along, although they hadn't 'bothered' to shrink them. A tolerant smile stretched her lips while she shrunk the cases herself, then she and Ginny 'assisted' the boys with leaving the common room and descending all the stairs to the great hall without incident.

Very few people were there for breakfast. A hand full of students, most of which would be leaving Hogwarts before noon, and even fewer teachers were gathered. Even the headmaster was absent, Hermione noted, wondering if his plans had changed and he wouldn't be able to take them to Grimmauld after all. Well, it didn't matter…too much. She was really hoping to try apparating for the first time, even if it would be side-along apparition, but taking the Express would be fine too. The four of them sat at the empty Gryffindor table and the boys seemed to awaken as their eyes and noses focused on the large amounts of food.

Breakfast passed in complete quietness, nothing but the sound of cutlery (and the boys' chewing) disrupting the silence, resonating through the large hall. Hermione threw occasional glances towards the teacher's table, which remained unchanged, but the others didn't seem to share her doubt. Not then anyway. But when professor McGonagall entered the great hall, making her way towards them with a grave expression, Hermione wished her intuition had been wrong. The professor informed them, that they were expected in the headmaster's office as soon as their breakfast was finished, but she told them nothing further, leaving all four students with a sense of foreboding. Even Ron and Harry were apprehensive, and the fact that they decided to stop eating in favour of heading for Dumbledore's office straight away was undeniable evidence.

…………

Albus was yet again mentally rehearsing what he would soon be telling the children. He had already informed Minerva, who, despite the _antagonism_ of sorts between herself and the Head of Slytherin, had been completely shaken by such news. It had taken quite a bit of insistence to dissuade her from storming into Severus' quarters.

It was not long before he heard them approach, the statues shifted and soon enough there was a knock at his door. Albus asked them to enter and was immediately faced with four anxious-looking students. Miss Granger wished him a good morning and three more greetings followed right away.

"Good morning, children. Please, do sit down. There are a few things that must be discussed before we leave."

The headmaster turned towards his own seat and sat down, gesturing towards the other chairs before his desk and the four students followed his lead.

"Sir, is everything all right?"

It was Harry who had voiced out their question, looking relentlessly into Dumbledore's blue eyes.

"No, Harry, I'm afraid not" Albus answered, leaning into the chair's backrest. "But first of all, let me assure you that all you loved ones are fine. What has happened is…of a different nature."

Indeed, his statement visibly calmed them and Albus had to wonder if they would actually care about Severus' ailment. Putting that thought aside, he began to tell his students about the appalling events of the night. He started slowly, telling them about the regularity of the Death Eater gatherings first. He mentioned Severus next, his concern when he had felt the unexpected summon, his departure…and then the meeting with He-who-must-not-be-named. Albus omitted to explain what exactly Voldemort had discovered to arouse his anger, focusing instead on what punishment Severus had received, on the conditions he had been given, on the unknown spell. He studied the four…well, he knew they weren't children anymore, but he still couldn't think of them differently. Their expressions had gone from wary, to alarmed, to horrified in a matter of minutes and the headmaster was somewhat relieved to note their concern.

His announcement that Severus Snape would be 'joining' them at Headquarters was met with silence and blank expressions though.

Albus resumed his speech after a short pause, asking them all to look past their dislike and arguments with their professor. He pleaded for tolerance and respect, underlining that things would be difficult enough for Severus without such hostilities. He was pleased to see that all four were taking his words quite seriously.

The headmaster stood afterwards and the students knew that it was their cue to leave.

"I will now assist Severus and we shall meet, as scheduled, before the entrance in a short while" he told them, just as they too were standing. They nodded in acknowledgement and left his office in utter silence.

The headmaster let out a long breath, preparing himself to 'face' Severus. He almost smiled as he considered how his hesitation would amuse his colleague – leaving his office and making his way on foot all the way to the dungeons only to buy himself more time.

…………

Albus knocked softly but did not await an answer. He entered Severus' quarters, looking for him even as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, until he finally reached the bedroom.

He was sitting in the middle of his bed, legs curled beneath him, eyes closed and back hunched. But his expression was one of deep concentration.

"Severus?" the headmaster whispered. "What are you doing?"

But a few moments passed before Severus answered. His eyes opened and he straightened his back, turning his head towards the door.

"I am listening."

His answer caused Dumbledore's eyebrows to rise. He looked around and focused, straining to hear whatever Severus was hearing. But no sound other than rhythmic breathing reached him. Then again, he _was_ very old, the headmaster thought.

"Listening for what exactly?"

Another pause followed the question yet again.

"Anything, nothing…sounds."

The headmaster pondered the answer for a while. _Always so cryptic_, he thought. And yet, he did not know what to make of it now. Instead, he concentrated on things at hand, noticing that Severus had not packed anything at all. He called for a house elf and instructed it to prepare the professor's luggage, turning towards the man in question to inquire if there was something in particular he wanted to take with him. Of course, he regretted the question as soon as Severus growled _'my sanity'_.

And yet, Severus did not protest as much as the headmaster had expected him to. True, he had snarled when Albus had taken him by the arm to lead the way, but there had been no other remarks. And they were walking slowly through the quiet hallways until they reached the stairs. The headmaster's grip tightened around Severus' arm just as he warned him about the steps. Gradually, they reached the top of the staircase, but the headmaster's relieved sigh was lost as Severus, unaware that there were no more stairs, stepped into thin air, nearly losing his balance. The whispered curse did not escape Albus, but he could do no more than apologizing.

…………

Hermione had followed Ginny and the boys outside, before the castle's gates. Not one word had been spoken since they had left the headmaster's office and Hermione was thankful for that. She would not have known what to say. Even now, as she paced back and forth, her mind could not fathom what her ears had transmitted. There was an air of surrealism about the entire situation and she could not quite bring herself to realize what it all entailed.

As the gates finally opened, all eyes turned towards them, towards the two figures standing there awkwardly. Hermione stared at her professors, remembering to blink only when her eyes began to sting. There was a moment of uncertainty before the headmaster stepped forward, nodding towards the four students. But no one spoke a word, nor did their eyes divert from the formerly dreaded Potions master. The two men passed them and they followed in silence. Hermione fell a few steps behind, taking the whole scene in. It looked like a grotesque play, the older man leading the younger, supporting him, matching his footsteps to the other's uncertain pace. And Hermione's eyes began to sting again but for a very different reason. She had never seen professor Snape like that before, so disoriented, so hesitant, devoid of his usual sneers and cutting remarks.

And it seemed to her that it was such a monstrous thing to behold. In that very instant, Hermione promised herself to do whatever she could to restore Severus Snape his normal poise and grace.

* * *

Author's Note

¹ - "A truism is a claim that is so obvious or self-evident as to be hardly worth mentioning, except as a reminder or as a rhetorical or literary device." (Wikipedia) – I loved literature in high school :P

Credit for the title goes to the amazing singer Lhasa the Sela, it is the title of one of her songs (amazing lyrics, really!), which can be heard here: http ://www .youtube. com/watch?v=3MzC3BkbJmw (remove spaces)

Next chapter will probably take even longer to post, because I'll be away for a few days and then there's something very important and university-related that needs to be finished by the end of next week.  
Good news is, that chapter 3 will be SS/HG centered.


	4. Chapter 3 Of Touch

Hurray! I've finally finished the project for my bachelor's degree … 115 pages is quite a lot!  
And now … I am '_free'_ to start studying for the final exam :P  
Anyway, I just _had_ to write this chapter and I hope you'll enjoy it.

* * *

Chapter 3 – Of touch

"_A friend is someone who reaches for your hand and touches your heart"  
__Unknown Author_

All her promises and concerns were forgotten only moments later, though, as Hermione struggled to regain her breath and balance. _Was this the way apparating was _supposed_ to feel like?_ Her ears were still ringing as Hermione took several deep breaths, trying to clear the dizziness. She _had_, of course, read that a person would feel a great deal of physical pressure during apparition, but really, she had expected it to be more like traveling by Floo. It was scarcely comforting to see that Harry was having the same problem, his face quite pale from the nausea.

A few moments later, Hermione decided that she was stable enough to move, lifting her head towards the buildings before them. It was just in time to see a door open. Molly Weasley rushed trough it and Hermione realized that the buzzing noise in her ears had completely blocked out the sound of No. 12 Grimmauld Place appearing between the other two houses. A faint noise drew her attention away from the advancing Weasley matron. Professor Dumbledore had disappeared, of course, apparating back to Hogwarts to bring Ginny and Ron, and then professor Snape.

"Harry! Hermione!"

Molly drew them both into a motherly hug, pulling away afterwards to look at them closely. She was about to say something else, when the headmaster reappeared, holding two of her children by the arm. Hermione smiled in sympathy as she took in her friends' pallor, but _they_ didn't have time to draw a single breath before their mother rushed to embrace them as well.

They all went inside the house a few minutes later, when Dumbledore and Snape failed to appear. Arthur Weasley was there to greet them too and they were all silently grateful for his seemingly understanding reserve, for forcing no more hugs on them. But Molly was Molly and before they had even managed to remove their cloaks and luggage, questions about lunch and snacks were already fired. Surprisingly, and much to Molly's disappointment, not even the boys were interested in eating, although, Hermione thought, that probably had something to do with apparating. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly with the realization that there _was_ something that could abate Ron and Harry's appetite.

"What could be keeping them so long?" Molly wondered, drawing Hermione's attention back to the room.

Indeed, the headmaster and professor Snape had yet to arrive, but Hermione didn't wonder what had retained them, but rather, '_how on Earth has professor Dumbledore convinced_ _Snape to come here'?_ He disliked them all (well, she wasn't very certain about what he thought of Molly and Arthur) and knew that the sentiment was returned.

"Have you seen him?" Molly asked. "Oh, poor man; must be awful for him."

There was no question about who exactly she meant.

"Arthur, can you see them?"

Her husband turned towards the window, looking out, but there was no one to be seen, as he informed them.

Several more minutes passed in much the same way, with Molly Weasley fussing over the rooms she had prepared for their stay, especially the one 'reserved' for Severus Snape, because she had had '_so little time to clear one of the rooms and arrange it for him'_. Ron and Harry were sharing some mildly exasperated looks, but Hermione was quite impressed; she had heard no complaint from them, no insults towards their professor, no '_he deserves it_', nothing. She feared, however, that Molly's _concern _would irritate the professor even more than the boys' protests.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the front door's sudden creek and Hermione stood from her chair, startled, watching silently as Molly rushed from the dining room into the hallway with a relieved '_Finally!_'.

"Albus, what kept you?! I was beginning to worry." Molly's voice resounded through the hallway and Hermione wondered for a brief second how Mrs. Black had missed the commotion. She didn't catch the headmaster's response but then Mrs. Weasley turned her attention towards professor Snape.

"Oh, Severus, please come in. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?"

They were finally stepping into the dining room, professor Snape led by Molly and the headmaster following, only a few steps behind. Snape seemed to be, for once, out of sarcastic, biting remarks; either that or, he simply didn't deem Mrs. Weasley's questions worthy of a retort. Arthur greeted the two men in the same brisk manner, compensating for his wife's agitation.

Professor Dumbledore was the first to speak afterwards, addressing them all, but looking at Molly in particular.

"I believe the best thing for Severus right now is rest. I'm afraid that I've only tired him more with my questions this morning."

"Certainly, Albus" Molly answered. "I've set up a room for you, Severus; I do hope it will be alright." Snape merely nodded in reply.

"Good, now," the headmaster continued, "Molly, Arthur, there are several things I _must_ discuss with you and there is little time, I must go back to Hogwarts to inform the others as well; if the children would consent to show Severus to this room you mentioned…" he paused, looking from one young face to the other. Said children also looked at each other in surprise before Dumbledore resumed his request.

"Miss Granger, you are already up. Would you please be so kind?"

Hermione's feet didn't hesitate to slowly push her forward, despite the fact that her mind was registering professor Snape's no-so-very-pleased expression.

"Of course, sir" she answered, turning briefly towards Mrs. Weasley, who muttered '_bedroom on the first floor_' to her. _Okay_, Hermione thought, _so this is you first opportunity to aid professor Snape_. And yet she wished she wouldn't have to do this, as she finally stopped in front of her professor. What was she supposed to do? Wouldn't he just slap her hand away, if she tried to take him by the arm, as the headmaster and Mrs. Weasley had done?

Dumbledore moved around her, walking towards the table at the same time that Ron, Ginny and Harry stepped past her and out of the dining room, avoiding looking at her. Well…she couldn't just stand there all day, so Hermione finally gathered her courage and lightly grasped Snape by an elbow. He didn't flinch, but she saw his nostrils flare.

"This way, sir" she whispered, stepping out of the room herself.

He followed her, again – without a word.

Hermione threw one last look at her friends, who were quietly moving towards the kitchen and then she focused on what she would have to do, what she should do. They walked slowly and in silence for a few steps while Hermione's mind worked furiously.

Whatever she did, or said, she didn't have to make him feel even more uncomfortable or, Merlin help her, more embarrassed. She tried to pay twice as much attention to the floor, dreading that he might somehow stumble over some misplaced object. Hermione came to a stop before the large staircase that would lead them to the other floors and professor Snape stopped too, his expression unchanged.

"Sir, we've reached the staircase" she told him, trying to keep her voice even and her tone matter-of-factly. "The banister is to your right, professor." Hermione saw him reach for it immediately and she let go of his elbow, he wouldn't need her to direct him now.

…………

Severus nearly sighed as he grasped the wooden banister firmly. After countless hours of disorientation, he finally felt that he _knew_ where he was, at least with approximation. Then the girl let go of his arm and he heard her step up the first stair. Perhaps it would turn out to be better, that Granger was the one to assist him. Albus…well, he just made his skin prickle with irritation with his darned _sympathy_; it seemed to exude off the man. And Molly…her sympathy simply _cascaded_ through her incessant chatter.

Miss Granger drew him away from these thoughts though, when she spoke to him a moment later.

"There are…" she started but something stopped her, "…twenty steps to the first floor, sir." _Ah, she had been counting the stairs_, he thought, just as he ascended the first one. Twenty… He would have to remember that, though he doubted he would ever _join_ the others in the kitchen or dining room. Although, if he thought better, he would _have_ to attend Order meetings, if his_ situation_ wouldn't change by then…

A short huff interrupted Severus' thoughts this time and his anger rose. Was he too _slow_ for her? Wasting her precious time?

"Is there a _problem_, Miss Granger?"

He took in her startled intake of breath and the stammered '_N-no, sir_' with some satisfaction before she continued: "It's just the house elves…"

_House elves? _She was annoyed by the house elves? But the girl had campaigned for their rights just… Oh, _those_ elves. Severus realized what she meant; he remembered his own disgust when he had first seen the row of heads. Well, there was the first thing he was mildly glad he couldn't see, Severus thought as he stepped on.

"Last four steps, professor."

Severus resisted the urge to inform her that, surprisingly, he could count also and knew how many stairs were left. It had been _her_ who had told him about their number after all and besides, the fewer the arguments, the sooner he would be left alone.

"Um…I'm not sure if you've been on the first floor before, professor" the girl spoke. His barely audible '_No_' encouraged her to continue. "Well, were in the hallway, sir. It stops to our left and the rooms are this way, professor." He felt her fingers through the fabric of his cloak, just above the elbow, and turned to walk in the direction she was quietly pulling him towards, to the right. They stopped a few steps later and Severus raised his eyebrows, waiting.

"There is a bathroom right in front of us now" she began. "It's the only one on the floor, but there is only the one bedroom here, so it's not very likely that anyone else will use it, sir. And the bedroom _does_ have a door that leads straight to the bathroom."

'_Good_' Severus thought. For a moment, the sound of snickering idiots while he tried to find the bathroom flashed through his mind. Miss Granger started moving, again – to the right, apparently following the hallway's turns.

"Well, here we are, sir" she announced several steps later. "The bedroom and then further ahead the drawing room. The library is in there…" but she stopped then, probably realizing, just as Severus had, that he had no more use for books now. He heard Miss Granger breathe in and open a door, and then a soft '_Oh_' escaped her. He waited for a while, crossing his arms and impatiently tapping his fingers on his sides, but really, she was taking far too long.

"Would today suit you, Miss Granger, or shall we wait for tomorrow?"

Severus was slightly disappointed that, despite the amount of sarcasm in his question, the girl remained calm. Although, he wouldn't put it past her to be making faces and rude gestures now that he couldn't see her.

"I'm sorry, professor" she said in a slightly strained tone. "But I was surprised by how much Mrs. Weasley has changed the room since the last time I've seen it." With that, she placed her hand back on his arm, guiding him forward again, into the room, Severus assumed. When she stepped away from him after a few strides, the same feeling of disorientation settled upon Severus. There was nothing in here even remotely familiar, no sounds, no scents, and he felt…like someone who was lost, in a completely unknown world.

Perhaps Miss Granger had sensed his unease, because she addressed him then.

"There's so much more space now, with some of the furniture gone. And I think she had the walls painted too, it's lighter. The room has no windows; it was usually a little darker in here."

He heard her move again, towards him he suspected; he could somehow feel her presence when she stopped before him. She was hesitating, until she drew in a deep breath.

"May I…um, show you around the room, sir?"

Severus blinked in confusion. Had he heard her right? He was about to ask the girl, if she actually knew what the word '_blind_' meant, but before he could do so, Severus felt a hand grasp his own through the fabric of his robes; lightly, just above the wrist. Later, he would tell himself that it had been his astonishment that had prevented him from pulling away. He let her lead him like that, until the outstretched hand she was holding came in contact with something firm, wooden and sculpted.

"This is your bed, sir" Granger whispered. "It's approximately in the middle of the room, touching the wall opposed to the entrance door. And here…" she moved to the left in the same manner, holding him by the wrist. Severus' palm touched a smooth, cool surface and he let his fingers slide along it.

"The wardrobe" she announced. "The door to the bathroom is right over here, just a couple of steps" and again, Severus didn't protest when he felt the tug on his sleeve. She placed his hand on the door-handle and withdrew her own hand from it, taking a step away from him.

"I see Mrs. Weasley has placed a desk on the other side of the bed, but she must have forgotten to conjure a chair…" she mused. "Would you like me to bring one, sir?"

These words seemed to rouse him from his state of perplexity and Severus moved his hand from the door, turning towards the girl's general direction and crossing his arms.

"What I would like, Miss Granger, is for you to remove yourself from the room and let me _rest_" he growled. "That is, of course, if you are quite finished with this ridiculous little show of yours."

The silence that followed his angry remark was so profound, that not even the sound of her breathing reached Severus' ears. But then she replied an irritated '_Yes, sir_' and practically stomped out of the room.

…………

'_Bloody ingrate!_' Hermione thought, as she stepped into the hallway, closing the door a little too forcefully behind her.

* * *

Author's Note

Just in case you don't remember what house elves they where referring to on the staircase, here's an explanation: "The wall on the stair is decorated with a row of shrunken house-elf heads, mounted on the wall on plaques." (HPLexicon)  
I've tried to keep as faithful as possible to the description of Grimmauld Place that was available on the internet.

Not a lot of action in this chapter…but quite a bit of **inter**action. I hope it didn't strike you as too forceful, too unlikely to happen.


	5. Chapter 4 In Change

Chapter 4 – In Change

"_Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are_._"  
Bertold Brecht_

Anger is so much like a storm. It unleashes when two differently charged elements touch, it is self-consuming and powerful, and yet it rarely lasts. So, by the time Hermione was nearing the kitchen to rejoin her friends, her anger had subsided, leaving a sense of clarity behind. Professor Snape hadn't rested in who knew how long, even the headmaster had said so, and it wasn't just that. Of course he was strong and annoyingly proud, but no one, not even he, could feel anything but disoriented and confused after losing their eye sight. Perhaps she had been a little too bold to lead him across the room like that, and adding the fact that he was generally unpleasant and he disliked her, Hermione was tempted to count the whole scene as a small victory – after all, he had let her guide him to his room without protests or insults _almost_ until the end.

Her three friends smiled sympathetically as soon as she entered the room and asked her, if she was alright. Hermione replied, rather indignantly, that of _course _she was fine, what had they expected?

"Well…you can expect anything from Snape" muttered Ron.

"Anything but fairness and pleasantry" Harry amended, before Hermione could say anything.

Ginny, who had been preparing some snacks, seen as her mother was still in discussions with Dumbledore, asked her how nasty Snape had been to her, but Hermione brushed the question off, saying that he had barely said a word to her, and with that, she considered the subject closed.

………………

Severus granted himself a smirk, before he focused his attention on walking. After all, it had taken him no more than a sentence to make the girl storm out of the room; somehow, he was glad the dark lord had decided to take away his sight, and not his ability to speak…it would have been far more difficult to keep others at bay without his biting remarks.

He stretched out his arms and counted one…two…three…four steps until his hands found the bed. He sank down gratefully and realised, as he sat on something edgy, that he was still wearing his cloak, and his trunk was still shrunken, inside the cloak's pocket. Severus wondered, as he removed the small case from his pocket, if he would manage to turn it back to its original size. The simple point-me spell and side-along apparition had required very little magic and Severus was uncertain, if his powers hadn't been affected.

He set the small trunk on the bed and touched the tip of his wand to it. Deciding that a verbal spell would be a better choice, he whispered '_Engorgio_' and was relieved to feel the flow of magic through his body. He reached out his free hand and ran his palm across the trunk's rough, normally sized surface. From what he could tell – or, rather, from what his fingers could tell him – it had worked. Severus managed to unlock and open it and he breathed out in relief, as he felt the different fabrics and textures of his trunk's contents. They all felt _normal_, he had succeeded. But he wasn't even sure what the Hogwarts elf had placed inside his coffer and arranging all the items in the wardrobe and on the desk would surely prove to be more of a challenge. For now, though, it was enough, he needed to lie down.

Severus silently cursed himself, as he struggled to get the heavy trunk off the bed. Why hadn't he placed it on the floor before enlarging it? By the time he had finally finished the task, sweat covered his skin, making his clothes stick to it and his throat dry. He removed his cloak, boots and robe, dropping them all in a pile near the bed, and he finally lay down on his back. He forced his body to stand straight despite the sharp pain shooting through his spine, making him twitch; he needed to align his bones and muscles.

He had finally submerged into a state of numbness, feeling detached from his own body, when quite suddenly a loud 'pop' disrupted the profound silence in the room, making him jump to a sitting position. Severus grasped his wand, waving it from side to side, uncertain of the source of the noise.

"Who's there?" he demanded, his voice stern.

"Kreacher is _most_ sorry to startle master of potions" a rough voice announced, sounding nothing close to repentant.

"Blood traitor matron has sent Kreacher to ask if master of potions needs anything" the elf continued.

"Kreacher also brings chair for potions master."

The statement was followed by a scraping noise, which, Severus suspected, came from said chair. _'Meddlesome girl_' he thought, but not without a trace of amusement.

He did not relinquish the grasp on his wand as he considered what to do with the elf. His thoughts flickered to his unpacked trunk, but surely the elf could not be trusted, it had more or less betrayed its own master not even a year ago. No, he would not let it touch his belongings, but he _was_ very thirsty and he very much doubted that the odious creature would attempt to poison him.

So he requested a goblet of water and asked to be left alone as soon as he received it. Severus drank the goblet's whole contents and leaned back on the pillows. Had the girl said anything about a nightstand? He did not remember, but his hands met only empty air at the sides of his bed. Sighing, he placed the empty goblet on the floor and sank back into the pillows.

Mingled thoughts about treacherous elves and silly Gryffindor girls whirled through his mind until he finally fell asleep.

………………

In the evening, Hermione had been forbidden (by Ron and Harry) to even attempt to touch a book or anything related to school and studying for the rest of the day. Their motive, or rather their _pretext_, Hermione thought, was that, since she would be spending Christmas away, with her parents, she just _had_ to celebrate with them tonight. Her protests that she would be back by Friday had been ignored completely, so now she was sitting with everyone else in the living room, listening to some music, eating and chatting, while Crookshanks purred in her lap.

In the end, she had to admit that it had been a very pleasant evening, despite her initial reserve. The familial, relaxed atmosphere had gotten her mind, and hopefully everyone else's, off of impending wars, dark lords and blind professors, focusing instead on the joy everyone seemed to exude, even Harry, whom she had barely seen smiling in the past months.

So it was with great regret that they finally made their way towards the upper landings when Mrs. Weasley ushered them to their bedrooms a little after midnight. Hermione fondly looked at the smiles on her friends' faces, while they ascended the stairs, certain that she had to be wearing the same dreamy, content expression.

She lingered behind as they passed the door to Snape's room. Hermione wondered if he was sleeping, or if they had, perhaps, bothered him with the noise. She could hear no sounds from behind the door and she leaned over to peek under it.

'_No light, he's probably sle-'_ Hermione shook her head in wry amusement. _'Brilliant, Miss Granger' _she mocked, _'surely a blind man would need light in his room.' _She rolled her eyes and followed her friends up, towards the second floor, still shaking her head slightly.

………………

Severus stirred in his bed. He wondered briefly what time it was and then he opened his eyes…and closed them back. He opened them again, but the darkness was still there and he took in a deep breath. He had almost forgotten.

Severus sighed. He lifted his body to lean against the backrest and crossed his arms on his chest. He couldn't think of a way to find out what time it was without directly asking someone, but considering how rested he felt…he must have slept for quite some time. It didn't really matter what time it was now though…he was neither hungry, nor in need of company, so Severus decided he could attempt to get 'acquainted' with the room and try to unpack his trunk.

It was not as difficult as he had anticipated, but the room _was_ rather small and he knew what furniture items were present and approximately where to expect them. The bathroom was a different, unknown story, but in the end he even managed to take a shower without incident. Once he had put on fresh clothes from his trunk, Severus began the interesting task of realising what exactly had been packed inside it and where to put everything.

It proved to be a rewarding occupation, completely focusing his concentration on what he was doing, instead of what had happened, or what was to be done in the future. The feel of different materials and textures was something he had never consciously attempted to distinguish before. In the end, Severus was rather proud of himself. He was quite certain that he had correctly recognised all objects, as he pushed the now almost empty trunk under the bed. The only items he had left inside it were three books the elf had packed for him. It had been with great regret that he had stroked their covers before placing them back inside the case.

Severus had barely sat down on his bed when a knock on the door rang through the silence. His jaw tightened at the thought of Hermione Granger or Molly Weasley. He sat straighter and fixed his eyes in the direction of the door, uttering an '_Enter_' that was anything but inviting. Nevertheless, the door opened with a short creak.

"Severus, good morning."

Dumbledore. He didn't know if he should feel relieved that it was neither one of the women, the headmaster could be just as bad, if not worse, seen as he could hardly throw him out.

"Albus" he greeted, "I dare say your timing is perfect."

He heard the door close and a rustle of fabric as Dumbledore walked closer, pulled the chair with a dull scrape and sat down.

"Were you busy, Severus? I hope I didn't bother you, but it's nearly nine in the morning and I'm sure Molly will be here soon with your breakfast. I needed to speak to you before that, there are a few things we must settle."

Severus smirked at the headmaster's casual mention of the time, knowing very well that it was deliberate. However, he was not looking forward to their conversation. If he had to state just one more time that he had never before seen the curse the dark lord had hit him with, he would go mad.

Seeing that Severus would make no further (spoken) comment, the headmaster began his reasoning.

"Well, since your _predicament_ is not something we could have successfully hidden from the others, we must come up with an explanation for it. I have discussed this with Molly and Arthur yesterday, but I've only told them that you had been cursed by Voldemort, which is why I needed to talk to you as soon as possible."

Severus had to admit that Albus was right; it was an important matter, one that needed to be settled.

"I was rather evasive with them and in all honesty, I still cannot come up with a proper, believable idea of what to proclaim as the reason for Voldemort's anger. And I'm sure that not all the order members will be as trustful as the Weasley's. Alastor for one will certainly demand details."

"Which you can very well deny him, he is not entitled to know all your plans, he is aware of that."

Albus did not answer and silence settled over the room once more. Severus was certain that the headmaster was observing him, he could feel it, but he did not raise his eyes in challenge, it would have been pointless.

"Given the nature of my _punishment_ and the dark lord's request" Severus spoke, "we could tell them that the dark lord obviously did not wish for me to see something. Perhaps a new plan of his…although…" he trailed off.

"Yes?" Dumbledore encouraged.

"He would not have told me that there was something important he wanted to hide from his enemies, something he would not risk you seeing in my mind." Severus ran a finger across his lips, frowning.

"We could claim that he had become suspicious of me, that I had not brought him any important information lately, which is also true." He paused again, thinking, while Dumbledore followed his trail of thought.

"If you found out about one of his plans, a raid perhaps, I would be the first he would suspect."

"But if Tom thought you had betrayed him, he would kill you" Dumbledore intervened.

"Not without proof of my guilt. If such a situation would ever occur, I would claim innocence; he would search through my memories and find nothing, and he would not kill me, but he would, of course, use some form of punishment, if only to remind me that I have pledged my life to him" Severus finished bitterly.

"And then he would test you" Albus continued. "Yes, we could say that it was our deduction that he did not want you to be present in further planning so he could test his idea – if another plan or raid would be thwarted _during_ your exclusion from his meetings your honesty would be proven."

Dumbledore pondered the idea, seemingly pleased with it.

"And I would reserve the right to keep this acquired information that lead to your punishment to myself, should anyone question it. Yes, it's still vague, but it will have to do."

Neither man said anything more for a while, but Severus felt the headmaster's gaze upon himself once again. He lowered his head and scowled.

"Forgive me, Severus. I've been so preoccupied with finding plausible explanations that I have failed to ask you how you were feeling. Can you manage?"

Severus was rather taken aback by the sudden change of topic and he answered with less sarcasm than usual.

"I can and _will_ manage, Albus. It is…bearable for now, but once classes recommence, I doubt that I will still be able to hold my lessons. And unfortunately I cannot contribute to researching for a counter-curse."

"Yes, about that, I have considered it too, but…do you think it wise to use a counter-curse, should we actually find or create one? And I for one am not sure that we will; it must have been a curse invented by Voldemort himself."

"Why should it be unwise?" Severus demanded.

"Perhaps he would see it as interference once again. He punished you and you would go against his conditions by reversing the curse."

Severus ran his fingers through his hair, letting his head rest in his hands.

"Either way, I will not be able to return without something to bring or tell him, no matter if we find a counter-curse or not" he said. "And I must agree. Undoing his curse would surely serve to anger him as well." He sighed. So he would have to do without his sight for who knew how long.

Sensing his distress, Albus laid a hand on Severus' shoulder, pleased to see that the younger man did not flinch.

"We'll find a solution to this, my boy, you'll see."

"I will only see _after_ we'll find a solution, Albus."

………………

The time until Christmas went by in a flurry for Hermione. Unlike all other years, she hadn't bought presents sooner, not all of them any way, but with good reason. Her gifts for her three good friends would be a little different this year. She also wanted to buy something for professor Snape, but no matter what she got him, Hermione was somewhat afraid he would send it back, possibly with a Howler.

She had made a short detour to Diagon Alley with her parents and Tonks, who had been tasked with escorting them to their home. Making a note to find a suitable present for Tonks as well, Hermione had searched through the shops until, at last, she had spotted something appropriate for Snape. It was simple, nothing too ostentatious, but perfectly useful for him.

Most of the day had passed that way, searching for gifts first in magical and then in muggle London, a quick lunch, despite Tonks' protest and then the drive home, where she could finally have a quiet evening with her parents.

Hermione wrote a letter to her friends, explaining that she had a surprise gift for them, which they would receive no sooner than Sunday evening; she wrapped all other presents before going to bed so she could dedicate the entire next day to Christmas preparations with her parents. Over the years, as the threat and danger in the wizarding world had increased, and she had been more and more involved with helping and making a difference, Hermione had slowly become estranged from her birth-world, and soon her parents as well. She felt a pang of guild every time she had to lie to them about the seriousness of the war wizards and witches were facing, but, against her nature, she also thought that on very rare occasions ignorance _was _bliss. And yet, spending the holidays at home always made her feel that nothing had changed, that everything was and would continue to be all right.

………………

The lack of _everything_ was driving Severus insane. No light, no sounds, no sense of time, nothing to make one moment different from the other. The only thing that seemed to break the endless stretch of time and silence was the serving of his meals, by either Mrs. Weasley or that wretched house elf, but neither lingered in his room, Molly because she was in charge of Christmas arrangements, and the elf because he always sent it away. It had been less than three days since his arrival there, and Severus already felt that he could take no more. It would have been different at Hogwarts, if for no other reason than the fact that he could have walked around undisturbed and possibly unseen. He cursed Dumbledore for what seemed like the millionth time for convincing him to come to Grimmauld Place.

A knock at the door almost made him sigh in relief, but Severus' tone of voice was as uninviting as ever as he spoke '_Yes_' and took a seat at the desk.

"Merry Christmas, Severus" Molly's joyous voice greeted.

He muttered '_The same to you, Molly_' and took notice of the rush of sounds that invaded the room until she closed the door. He had realised a while ago that the door (and probably the walls also) was spelled to block all sounds and noises from the outside, but Severus did not tell them that the absence thereof bothered him, nor did he attempt to reverse the spell.

"You've received quite a few gifts, you know" Molly addressed him, drawing his attention. But Severus didn't let his interest show; he merely raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Yes, yes, you have" she insisted, responding to his expression.

"I've brought them up, dear, but it would be lovely if you would come down to the dining room with me. Everyone will be opening presents; you shouldn't sit here on your one."

Severus wondered who exactly would find his presence _lovely_ before he declined Molly's invitation. She didn't insist any further, she had obviously learned that it was useless to try to dissuade him.

"Well then…should I help you unwrap them?"

"As you wish, Molly."

The woman rolled her eyes and sat down on the bed, placing the rustling packages next to her. Severus turned towards her ever so slightly, listening intently to the sounds of torn paper.

"This one is actually from Arthur and me" Molly told him. "It's really not much, just a scarf" she explained. "I knitted it myself; it's green. Here you go."

Severus reached out a hand and Molly placed the soft, woolly gift around it.

"Thank you, Molly, I appreciate it" he whispered, digging his fingers into the fabric.

"Oh, don't mention it, it's really nothing" she answered, slightly flushed by such an honest and direct response. She fumbled with the other gifts and picked another one out.

"This one is from Minerva" she announced and chuckled a moment afterwards.

"It seems that Minerva is worried about your figure, or so she says in the note. Well…I guess you won't lack sweets this Christmas" Molly told him, "she's sent you about a dozen boxes of them. Oh, and she says she's charmed them to say what they are when you touch them."

Count on Minerva to come up with something as ridiculous. He snorted at the idea, thankful that Molly didn't want to test that aspect of the gift.

"There's a gift from Albus, of course. Let me see…" she trailed off, followed immediately by more tearing sounds. Severus felt rather annoyed at his own anticipation, but he brushed it off when he heard Molly's soft '_Oh_'.

"How thoughtful of him" she said. "It's a radio, and it's black too" Molly added fondly.

"I see" was Severus' only reply, but he had to admit that it _was_ indeed a very thoughtful and thought-of gift. He swallowed, absolutely _not_ feeling overwhelmed.

"Do you know how it works, Severus?" Molly inquired.

"Yes, yes I do."

"Alright then, one more" she said, picking up the last, smallest gift.

There was a long moment of silence before Mrs. Weasley said that it was from Hermione. Severus' eyebrows rose and he stood a little straighter in his chair. Never before had he received a gift from a student who was not from his own house. Of course, he could count on _her _to do something like that, but he was interested to know what exactly the girl had sent him. Somehow, he feared it would be either annoying or ridiculous.

"_To Professor Snape. H. Granger_" Molly read, before she unwrapped it. Another '_Oh_' escaped her lips, making Severus genuinely curious.

"Oh, how nice" Molly whispered. "Hermione's such a dear."

Severus made no comment to Molly's pleasantries, wondering if she consciously postponed saying what the bloody gift was to annoy him.

"It's a Dicto-quill" she finally said.

'_Oh' _Severus thought. It felt rather anticlimactic, although he hadn't known what to expect. Still, he had to admit that, like Albus, the girl had actually thought to give him something useful, something appropriate for his current situation.

"I might add that it's also black" Molly told him, in an amused tone. "Black, with a silver tip. It's really quite beautiful."

Severus felt the smooth feather touch his hand and he took the quill from Molly, twirling it between two fingers. He felt oddly moved by all these supportive gestures, a feeling that also made him uncomfortable.

"I appreciate your assistance and your gift Molly. Unfortunately, there is nothing I can give you in return."

"Oh, hush" she chastised, "It was my pleasure."

Severus nodded. Placing both scarf and quill on the desk, he turned towards Molly, telling her not to waste any more of her time with him, as he was sure she still had a lot of things to do and he would manage on his own.

Mrs. Weasley asked him again, if he didn't want to join them downstairs, at least for breakfast, but his answer remained the same, so Molly vanished the torn paper and made her way to the door, wishing him a '_Merry Christmas_' once more, before she closed the door behind her.

For once, Severus' mind felt completely blank and calm. He sat in perfect stillness for a while, but then he let out a long breath, took his wand out from his left sleeve and successfully conjured a sheet of parchment, which he then cut into smaller pieces. He found the dicto-quill where he had left it on the desk and turned it between his fingers again. The corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly as he placed the tip on one of the parchment pieces and let go of it, determined to make use of his gift. And in what better way to employ it, than to send replies to those who had provided him with the morning's entertainment? Severus smirked and began dictating: '_Albus,_'

………………

Hermione was rather surprised to see another owl at the window on Christmas morning. She had already opened all her presents and was just having breakfast with her parents, when the soft peck on glass drew her attention. It wasn't an owl she knew and the bird flew away as soon as the note was untied from its leg. Hermione unrolled the parchment and read the short note in astonishment, but then a smile curled her lips. There was only one sentence and a signature on it, but to her it meant so much more.

'_Know, Miss Granger, that this changes nothing._  
_SS'_

But it did change _a lot_ for Hermione. He had not only accepted, but also used her gift. She would have jumped and cheered for joy, but it would have drawn too many questions from her parents, so she kept her small victory-celebration to herself.

That short, simple note was by far the best gift she had received for Christmas.

* * *

  
Author's Notes

Sorry it took me so long to update (precisely one month), I've been rather busy, but now I have officially graduated from college and am on holidays!

I hope you liked this chapter (longest one I've ever written); it was a little difficult to write, especially the conversation between Snape and Dumbledore.

Just to make things a little clearer about the timeline: I think that Slughorn's party took place on Friday, 20 December (the day is not clearly specified in HBP, but it seems a logical choice); Severus was summoned on Saturday night and they all went to Grimmauld Place on Sunday. So Christmas was Tuesday night :).  
By the way, it feels odd to write about Christmas when there are 40°C out here during the day!

Chapter 5 – From the Origins, will have more SS/HG interaction! It will be a challenging chapter to write and I'll have to do some more research, so it might take some time to finish.

Reviews make the heart grow fonder and the hand write faster!!!


	6. Chapter 5 From the Origins

Chapter 5 – From the Origins

"_In my beginning is my end."  
T.S. Elliot_

Hermione's return to Grimmauld Place on Friday evening was bittersweet. The time spent with her parents had been pleasant and relaxing, so even though she wanted to return to the magical world and her friends, Hermione could not help but wonder if she would ever be able to have such a peaceful meeting with her parents again in the near future. But the exuberant greetings and loving hugs that welcomed her and Tonks the moment they arrived at Headquarters erased such thoughts from her mind. Of course, the next thing Harry and particularly Ron did, was to ask her about her mysterious Christmas gift and why they had to wait until Sunday. But Hermione remained unyielding in her decision to surprise them. She would have to tell them eventually, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley too, because they were included in her plan – more out of necessity, since her surprise involved leaving Headquarters – but for now she just wanted to prolong the suspense.

Saturday morning, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny left for Diagon Alley, where they needed to buy school supplies; after all the lazing around, even Harry and Ron had promised to dedicate at least a couple of hours a day to homework in the second week of holidays. Fred and George had volunteered to escort their mother and sister, so Hermione, Ron and Harry were left under Mr. Weasley's supervision for the day. As the boys began a game of chess, she and Mr. Weasley observed them. Of course, that did not hold Hermione's interest for long. While Mr. Weasley focused on every move, every decision, with an expression that betrayed his passion for the game, Hermione's thoughts kept drifting away.

She wondered what professor Snape had been doing the past week; or, rather, _if_ he had been doing anything. Somehow, she had the feeling he hadn't really left his room; he seemed the sort of person who would avoid situations where he wasn't in total control of his abilities. She debated asking Mr. Weasley about her professor for a while, until she finally gathered her courage and spoke up, slightly startling the three concentrated men – well, the man and the two boys really.

"How is professor Snape, Mr. Weasley?"

All three looked at her in surprise, Ron being the first to recover. He merely rolled his eyes and turned back to the chess board. Harry held her gaze for a few more moments, his eyes piercing, until he too returned his focus to the game.

"Well, honestly Hermione, I'm not sure" Arthur replied. He looked slightly embarrassed under Hermione's scrutiny, which didn't escape her.

"He only stays in his room and…" Arthur trailed off.

'_And you don't go up to see __him' _Hermione mentally finished for him. Knowing Severus Snape's _amiability_, she couldn't really blame Mr. Weasley for avoiding him; he probably had enough to deal with as it was.

"But is he alright?" Hermione insisted.

Mr. Weasley seemed a little disappointed to have to turn his attention away from the game, but he smiled at her and answered a little ruefully.

"I suppose he is, Hermione. At least, as alright as he _can_ be." Arthur rubbed his chin absentmindedly.

"You really should ask Molly about this," he continued, "she's the one who's seen him most, _although I'm not so sure they talk too much_" the last part was a nearly unintelligible mumble.

"I for one have only seen him once, during the Order meeting, two days ago."

_Order meeting?_ Hermione hadn't known about it. She turned towards the boys, who had looked up from the game – Harry with a particularly upset expression – when the meeting was mentioned. _'They're keeping things from him again'_ Hermione concluded, eyes still fixed on Harry. When would they realise that he needed to know what was happening? Everything revolved around him and yet Harry was once again kept in the dark. _The dark._ That brought Hermione's thoughts back to professor Snape.

"He attended the meeting?" she asked Mr. Weasley, turning her attention back to him. Ron and Harry had abandoned the chess game momentarily and were also waiting for Arthur's answer.

"Of course he did. He had to; after all, the meeting was mainly about him."

"Oh…" Hermione whispered. "You mean about his current predicament?"

Mr. Weasley took a moment to seemingly considering his answer, probably wondering if the information was out of bounds for the three of them. In the end he decided it wasn't and confirmed Hermione's question.

"He was no different than before during the meeting" Arthur continued, before Hermione managed to ask him to give more details. "The same biting sarcasm and lack of patience…you know Severus" he smiled tolerantly.

"Has – has he been discovered as professor Dumbledore's spy?"

"Oh, Merlin no, Hermione!" Arthur exclaimed. "I doubt he would still be alive if that were the case."

Hermione couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine. Was the information he gathered as a spy so important that he would risk his life to obtain it? Apparently so…

"Then why _did_ Voldemort do this?"

It was Harry who had asked the question, drawing a gasp from Ron, who appeared to still dread the name. Again, Mr. Weasley pondered if he should or shouldn't answer, but eventually he decided that a part-truth would calm Harry's spirits.

"Frankly Harry, I don't exactly know" he said, "Albus has chosen not to share this information with the Order."

Hermione was a little surprised that the headmaster kept things form the others as well, but perhaps he was afraid there might be another spy? Or maybe he didn't want to risk Snape's role should any Order member ever be captured by the Death Eaters.

Harry looked slightly less upset. Apparently, they hadn't missed out on that much information, they already knew most of what Mr. Weasley had told them from Dumbledore himself, when he had explained why Snape had to go with them to Grimmauld almost a week earlier.

Hermione's thoughts drifted back towards Snape. Wasn't he going mad with boredom? There was nothing he could really do and she was quite certain that she wouldn't be able to stand the idleness in his place.

Perhaps this would prove to be an opportunity for her, Hermione thought. He might be more _tolerant_ now and not dismiss her again. She could, at the same time, both check on him and find a solution to a problem of sorts she had come across. She had initially planed on asking Mr. or Mrs. Weasley about the spells, but surely professor Snape would know more… Somehow she would manage to persuade him to have a civil, academic conversation with her; or at least she hoped she would.

"Mr. Weasley, do you think professor Snape would mind if I would go up and talk to him?"

Immediately, three pairs of eyes turned to her. _Damn_. Perhaps she should have simply gotten up and left. Harry and Ron looked particularly shocked. They spoke at the same time, both quite loudly, but Hermione clearly heard the words 'suicidal' and 'death wish'. She rolled her eyes in exasperation. Apparently, whatever sympathy the two had initially felt for their professor had evaporated.

"I couldn't say, Hermione" Arthur replied, "but there's no harm in trying, is there?"

Ron promptly muttered that there _was _harm, a whole lot of it when Snape was involved. Hermione ignored his comment though. She stood from her chair and excused herself, rushing out of the living room before either Harry or Ron could make any more brilliant remarks. Or before she changed her mind.

She began formulating a little speech on her way up, pondering how and what exactly to ask. Nothing personal, no small talk and certainly no mention of He-who-must-_absolutely_-not-be-named. Hermione felt more confident with every step. Surely he would at least see this as a sort of entertainment, if not a challenge.

But once she was finally before the door to professor Snape's room, her resolve weakened and her heart beat faster and faster, like the wings of a bird, trapped behind the bars of her ribcage. She waited a few more moments for her breathing to settle, certain that he would not fail to notice, and then she knocked.

………………

Severus jumped in his chair when a knock broke the silence. _'Damn it all!' _he mentally cursed, vowing to have the silencing charm removed from the door as soon as possible. This happened almost every single time Molly came to his room; he couldn't hear her footsteps or any other noises from outside and the sudden knock on the door always made him start, playing with his nerves.

"_Yes_" he half growled, half shouted, sitting straight in his chair, pretending to be occupied with the radio. He heard the door open, slowly, and turned his face towards it.

"Good morning, sir" a rather hesitant voice greeted.

_Granger. _When had _she _returned? And more importantly, what did she want? If she was going bring up the quill and expect his gratitude he would throw the darned thing at her and send her out.

"Miss Granger, what a…_surprise_." His sarcastic tone failed to faze her though, and she spoke on, admittedly, still a little uncertain.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you, professor, I –" she paused shortly when he snorted, "I was only wondering if I could talk to you."

_Talk? She wanted to talk…_Severus frowned.

"I assure you, Miss Granger, I am in no need of your therapeutic counselling _or_ your chatter, or whatever other nonsense you planned on wasting my time and your energy on."

Severus sneered, quite content with the bitterness of his answer. He would never admit it, but her short presence here was already a twisted kind of therapy. He had restrained his unpleasant remarks to a minimum with Molly the entire week, yet he felt no guilt to use them on the girl. It was rather…invigorating to do so; it made him feel like he was regaining a part of his old self.

Granger was quiet for a few more moments, breathing angrily. He wondered if she had rehearsed her part of the _talk_ and he had now ruined her moment; it would be quite like her.

"I'm having problems with finding references to a certain topic I was interested in and I had hoped you would be able to explain or recommend something, _sir_" she said crossly. "I hadn't considered playing the psychiatrist though, but it really does sound like a _marvellous_ idea."

Severus blinked. That had sounded remarkably similar to something he would normally say. So he couldn't quite decide if he should burst into laughter or shout at her. Eventually, he did neither. He sighed theatrically before he spoke.

"Do come in girl, or would you rather talk from the hallway?"

A moment later he heard her take two steps into the room, but the door remained open. She didn't say anything and Severus crossed his arms impatiently.

"Well?"

A rustling of cloth, a deep breath and then she finally spoke, voice still quivering slightly.

"It's…not exactly school related" she began, "I was just curious and I couldn't find anything significant about it in the library…"

She trailed off again and her hesitation was trying Severus' patience.

"About what?" he asked irritably.

"The origin of spells."

Severus' eyebrows rose in surprise. And yet, somehow, he wasn't at all surprised that _she_, of all students, would want to learn about…well, the beginning. No, it was expected, after all, she was muggle-born; she would not take magic for granted, without wanting to understand, or at least know. Perhaps he should be surprised that it had taken her six years to finally ask such questions.

"What exactly have you gained knowledge of so far?" he demanded, slightly relaxing his posture.

"Well, not much I'm afraid…" Again, she stopped, but this time only for a moment.

"Professor? Would – would you mind if we would go to the library to talk?" she spoke in a rush.

The library. A twinge ran through his chest at the thought of shelves full of books. But, perhaps it _was_ better there than in his bedroom. There wasn't anywhere for her to sit except for the bed, but that was not an option. Then again, going to the library would mean exposing himself to all the others, whom he had meticulously avoided until now.

"It will be just as quiet there too" she announced, interrupting his trail of thought. "Harry and Ron are playing chess downstairs with Mr. Weasley watching over them and there's no one else in the house right now. Except for Kreacher" she hastily amended.

Severus wondered if his thoughts had indeed been that obvious, or if, perhaps, it had been a mere coincidence. Either way, he sighed and stood from the chair.

"Very well, Miss Granger" he said, taking a few steps towards the door. "The library it is, then. Perhaps, while we're there I might _read_ something as well" he muttered sarcastically.

"Oh" the girl whispered. "I was wondering about that, sir. Isn't there a spell that can somehow – I don't know – read books, I suppose?"

Severus didn't even notice her poorly phrased question; the truth was that he had purposefully avoided all thoughts of books and reading for the past week.

"I mean, surely there has to be some way to do that" Granger persisted. "Even muggles have so-called _audio-books_, although" she said more to herself, "they're actually a recording of a person reading the book."

Severus tried all the drawers of his memory, searching for a spell with such an application, but he knew that, if he hadn't already remembered it, he surely didn't know one. But spells could be invented, he mused, and this one should not pose too much difficulty.

"Blindness is something unheard of in the wizarding world, Miss Granger" he said after a while, startling her. "Should someone lose their eyesight or be born without it, there are numerous kinds of magical eyes that can be employed, so this world has never needed to find other kinds of solutions for this particular problem."

As he explained, Severus listened for sounds from beyond the door she was still holding opened, but he could hear nothing but the girl's even breathing.

"Will you be able to regain your sight, sir?" she asked after the short moment of silence.

Her hopeful tone made him feel rather uncomfortable and more than a little suspicious. But still, he couldn't help wondering. Would he regain his sight? _Yes_, he thought so, but then the real question was…at what cost?

Severus drew himself from his contemplation, aware that the girl was still regarding him, probably waiting for an answer…or a cutting reply.

"Perhaps" was all he said though. And then "After you", as he motioned for her to lead the way.

She seemed to hesitate, unsure how to proceed, but then she finally touched his elbow, just like she had done almost a week before. Her fear, or whatever it was, was quite amusing to take in, and Severus barely held back a smile at the thought that, were he to turn towards her and shout _'Boo'_, she would undoubtedly scream.

………………

She knew it was wrong in a way, but Hermione couldn't help feeling glad that professor Snape couldn't see her. Because she was grinning like mad when they entered the library, or rather the so-called drawing room and she led him to an armchair near the bookshelves. She also knew that it was quite silly, but she felt like jumping and twirling. It had taken astonishingly little insistence on her part to get him out of his hiding place, and not only that, but he had seemed genuinely interested in the topic and surely he had to know a lot about it…All in all, Hermione felt like she had just won a prize.

She settled in the armchair across from his and looked at him, studying his face. He didn't seem uncomfortable, just somehow very alert. Hermione felt slightly guilty too study him like that, when he was unable to see her, and she painfully noticed his unfocused eyes, once so sharp and perceptive. She was so concentrated on searching for a difference in his dark irises that she nearly jumped from her seat when he spoke.

"Miss Granger, open a window, will you."

Hermione complied immediately, shivering slightly when the cold winter air drifted through the barely open window and touched her face. She was about to go back to her armchair when she noticed him lean towards the window, inhaling deeply. Hermione looked from her professor to the window and then back at him; she smiled and pulled the window wide open. She could close it later if it would become too cold in the room. Making her way back to the seat, she ran a finger over the books in the nearest shelf, unintentionally drawing professor Snape's attention. She finally reclaimed her seat and took in a deep, calming breath.

"I've actually learned a lot of interesting things researching the origin of spells, but just not about this particular subject" she explained. "Most books or articles only deal with the actual history of magic and of the wizarding kind, from the very first documentary mention of wizards and witches…"

Hermione paused, stealing a glance at professor Snape to ascertain his mood. His arms were not crossed, which she took as a good sign, but his face revealed no emotion. She resumed her speech, before he would once again lose his patience and emphasize that he didn't appreciate it when his time was being wasted.

"All the stories and suppositions and theories…I was actually a little surprised to see that they're similar to the muggle ones, at least, I mean, they follow similar lines, the same patterns sometimes."

"And why exactly does this surprise you?" he interrupted. "You don't believe that both muggle and wizarding folk think alike? Or that evolution is evolution, no matter what or who is involved?"

Hermione flushed. It wasn't that…but, she simply hadn't realised that the wizarding folk would be interested in researching these aspects of their existence. However, she wasn't about to admit to it.

"I don't know" she lied. "I suppose it's because wizards and muggles are so different in so many ways that these similarities were…unexpected." There, that sounded quite plausible, Hermione thought. Snape didn't look very impressed, judging by his sneer, but he seemed to believe her.

"But I was really more interested in spells, how witches and wizards realised that they could…I don't know, guide or access their magical power through spells" Hermione said fervently, "and I haven't found anything useful at all." Her voice had taken a plaintive tone and professor Snape seemed rather amused by it. She waited, silent and hopeful for him to enlighten her and when he finally opened his mouth to speak Hermione smiled in anticipation.

"What you must know, Miss Granger, if you truly wish to understand this" and his voice sounded rather doubtful, "is that our – let's say _ancestors_ used magic quite differently."

Hermione lifted her feet off the floor and hugged her knees, resting her chin on them, watching him transfixed. It was going to be a great lecture, she just _knew_ it.

"First of all, they utilized no magical objects to channel their power through, and as you surely know, wandless magic is far more difficult to perform. That is why their magic was not so strong in the beginning. It was also less…destructive, killing or generally harming others with ones magic was rare, and mostly accidental." Snape stopped for a moment, shifting his position in the armchair.

"Another important thing is their belief in gods. They saw their own magic as a gift from the gods, and before the wizarding kind ever thought to invent spells, it used _invocations_. If their power was a gift of the gods, I believe that, whenever our ancestors deliberately used magic, they called upon a god or a goddess and asked for their permission to use that power."

Hermione's mouth was slightly open now. _Wow_. That was all she could think as she wished that professor Snape, and all those as bright as him, would write books and share their knowledge.

"That notion and belief have almost completely faded until our time, but the use of some expressions that include names of gods or, later, very powerful and famous wizards and witches, are not a mere coincidence. Quite the contrary, they are an acknowledgement of power."

Hermione bit her lip to muffle a giggle, unable to help thinking if some later wizarding generation would use expressions like '_by Dumbledore's twinkle'_. Snape remained oblivious to her amusement, continuing his almost _passionate_ monologue and Hermione was once again lost in it.

"Witches and wizards have come to realize that the power is their own, it is within them, which is why the belief in gods faltered; or perhaps it was exactly the other way around, and they recognized their own magic, _because_ they no longer believed in the gods with the same commitment. Either way, this new found revelation was the basis of the use of magic as we now know it."

Snape licked his dried lips, but Hermione took no notice of it, she was too far away, searching for the power within herself, his last words still echoing in her mind.

"Of course, the steps they made towards, let's say the_ modern Wizarding World_ were slow, but at some point, and the moment cannot even be approximated historically, at some point spells were invented. They were different from invocations because they addressed no one, perhaps only the caster's magic. There are two important and powerful elements in a spell. First and foremost, the energy the caster puts into it and, of course, the words." Snape paused and leaned forward in his chair.

"Why do you think words are so important, Miss Granger?"

And with that, the wonderful thread his voice had been weaving broke and Hermione was roused from her hypnotic state, tangled in the invisible line. She blinked and stared at the man in front of her. He looked expectant… and that was somewhat worrying. He had asked her a question, she realized…but about what? Hermione desperately tried to remember.

"Miss Granger?" he asked angrily. "Have I _bored_ you to sleep?"

Hermione shook her head vigorously but then realized that he couldn't see it.

"Of course not, sir!"

"Have you heard a single word of what I said, girl?"

_Word_, that was it! He had asked her about the words used in spells, why they were important. Her back sagged in relief, sinking in the armchair's soft cushion.

"Yes, sir" she insisted, willing him to believe her. "I was just…thinking about it, and frankly professor, my mind is still reeling with everything you've said so far."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously and it was hard for Hermione to believe that he couldn't see her from beneath his lashes. She pondered his question, searching for a reasonable explanation before he snapped at her again.

"Words – words offer a sort of power" she began, feeling slightly disconcerted by his stern expression. "And they are the most important means of communication…they hold a message, they transmit it, the meaning of every object or being."

"Come now, Miss Granger, you are muggle-born" he urged, unyielding. "You should know more about this than those raised in the wizarding world."

But Hermione didn't understand what he meant, what she ought to know and she grudgingly admitted to it, waiting for his ridicule. It failed to arrive, though, as professor Snape merely snarled.

"_In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God _¹" he recited. "Does that sound familiar, Miss Granger? Muggles are thought about the power of words, about their sacred nature from infancy, from the so-called holy books."

Hermione was absolutely speechless. _How did he know?_ She wanted to say something, but nothing sensible crossed her mind, she was simply far too stunned to utter a sound.

"How was the World created according to the bible?" he asked rhetorically. "Through words, Miss Granger, words. _God said…_, _God called the light Day and the darkness Night_². Everything was _named_, and names bring recognition, they bring meaning. And magic creates with words too; it makes something out of nothing."

Her thoughts were spinning. This was so much deeper, profounder than what she had expected to hear and she felt small and ignorant. Hermione looked at professor Snape, and he was so different from the dreaded man from the classroom. His face was flushed from the fervour of his speech and he had spoken with so much emotion. Her throat felt dry although she had barely said anything and she realised that _he_ must be very thirsty. Hermione stood up, her feet and back aching from standing too long in the same position and her hands were cold – she had completely forgotten about the window. She slowly walked towards a small round table with several goblets, situated on the opposite side of the room, closing the window on her way. She pointed her wand at one of the goblets and whispered 'Aguamenti'. The incantation felt different on her lips now, more deliberate and conscious and Hermione watched the water rise in the goblet. She filled a second goblet with the same feeling of awe surrounding her and then she turned towards Snape.

"Would you like a goblet of water, professor?"

He took a few moments before nodding and answering 'Yes' and Hermione picked both goblets up and walked back towards the armchairs. She stopped next to his and he must have heard her, because he slowly extended a hand, palm up, so she placed the goblet in it. She sat back down and they both drained the contents of the cups, sinking in a state of quietness and contemplation.

"So, is that why nonverbal spells are more difficult to perform?" Hermione asked after the long moment of silence. "Because we no longer use the power of words, just our own power, our magic?" It was half question, half statement.

"_Obviously_, Miss Granger." He shook his head in exasperation and Hermione smiled wryly.

"I know, a deduction worthy of an Order of Merlin" she said partly amused, but also embarrassed.

She watched as professor Snape's eyes widened slightly before he said "Quite", forcing the corners of his mouth downward.

"And are the actual words of the spells we use now an indicator of when or where they were invented?" Hermione pursued. This was another thing she was curious about.

Snape considered his answer for a while, before speaking.

"It's very difficult to track the actual apparition of a spell in time or space" he said. "But I suppose that it can be viewed that way, although there is no general rule."

"So, since most spells we know use Latin words, that would mean that they could date from…sometime between the Roman Era and the Middle Ages" Hermione mused.

"Possibly, but not necessarily" professor Snape answered. "I know that most spells invented this very century are based on Latin words" he continued. "Why do you think that happens, Miss Granger?"

This time his question hadn't taken her by surprise and Hermione hoped to formulate a good enough theory, one that would not make her look even more of a fool, she thought.

"Well…I suppose it's somehow a tradition" she said. "And, also, a sort of symbol or emblem and it brings consistency. It's almost like a separate language, the language of the wizarding population, or at least of the European one" she added, trying to determine her professor's expression. But it was once again blank. Well…blank was better than angry, annoyed, bored or any other variation of such emotions, Hermione told herself.

"I think also gives incantations a form of exclusivity. It makes them different from common language" she said after another moment of reflection.

He made no comment, but he _did_ nod slightly and Hermione felt a little better about herself.

"You really are a great teacher, sir" she said earnestly, and watched as his face betrayed his surprise, but then he brushed off her compliment with a wave of his hand.

She could tell that the gesture had also meant that their 'conversation' or rather lesson was over. Hermione felt both disappointed that it had to end and strangely content and at ease. She helped professor Snape back to his room when he demanded it and smiled warmly as she thanked him for his help, hoping he would sense it in her voice. Hermione added that she hoped she hadn't wasted his time, as he had initially feared, but he only responded by nodding and saying that it was up to her.

With that, he entered his room and closed the door behind himself, putting a material end to the discussion.

* * *

Author's **excuses** (and notes)

I _really _hadn't planned on taking nearly three weeks to update, but (excuses follow) I've been caught up in a few important things (helping someone with a translation and preparing the final documentation for my masters programme application – I've been accepted at the University College of Birmingham *grin*). That, coupled with my lack of inspiration and writing mood (although I have already outlined the story for the next seven chapters…) resulted in continuously postponing the story.

I hope I can make it up with a nice and long chapter, with lots of Severus and Hermione interaction in it :D  
I was surprised to see how easily their conversation wrote itself, I had initially feared the large amount of 'magical theory' speculation but I quite like it now.

¹ Quotation from the New Testament, John 1:1  
² Quotation from the Bible, Genesis

Please tell me what you think & have a great week.

P.S.: I've written so much about words, that it reminded me of a beautiful song entitled "Les Mots" (The Words), sang by Mylene Farmer and Seal (http ://www .dailymotion. com/video/x870m_mylen-farmer-seal-les-mots_music ).

This is the chorus:

L'univers a ses mysteres (The universe has its mysteries)  
Les mots sont nos vies (The words are our lives)  
You could kill a life with words  
Soul, how would it feel  
Si nos vies sont si fragiles (If our lives our so fragile)  
Words are mysteries  
Les mots des sentiments (The words of feelings)  
Les mots d'amours, un temple (The words of love, a temple)


	7. Chapter 6 Things Unexpected

Chapter 6 – Things Unexpected

"_Surprise is the greatest gift which life can grant us."__  
__Boris Pasternak_

Hermione woke up with the distinct feeling that she had just dreamt something. Something fascinatingly dark and frightening. And yet, she couldn't remember what it was, although it seemed to flow near the edge of her awareness, like a stone beneath the water's surface. She tried to close her eyes again and focus, but whatever it was, it eluded her. She sighed softly and sat up on her elbows, peering at the clock. It was still early, but not terribly so, even for a Sunday morning. Hermione smiled. It was Sunday, _show-time_, she thought. Literally. She really hoped that they would all enjoy her surprise. She looked over at Ginny, who was still sleeping in her own bed. It felt strange, somehow, to always be the first one to wake up, and she always had to move silently or force herself to stay in bed.

Today, though, she knew that she would no longer be able to lie beneath the covers; she felt too restless due to her elusive dream. She got up and went about her morning ritual as quietly and as quickly as possible. Hermione stole a glance at Ginny when she returned from the bathroom, but she was still sleeping, oblivious to her friend's movement. Once she had dressed and tied her hair in a braid, Hermione made her way out of the bedroom and into the hallway. It was eerily quiet and slightly dark, but Hermione was already used to the gloomy house and she walked towards the staircase unperturbed. Descending to the first floor landing, she settled her eyes on the door to professor Snape's room and froze mid-step, as a rush of images twirled before her eyes. The dream…he had been in it.

Hermione sat down on the stairs, focusing, before the images escaped her memory once more.

She had been somewhere outside in her dream, at night and it had been dark. She had walked barefoot towards…a river? No, it had been a lake, although it hadn't really looked like a lake, it was enclosed, like a swimming pool. And she had heard voices, chanting voices in the night, and they had been frightening, but she had felt drawn to them, so she had walked on. And then, she could remember it clearly now, then she had fallen inside the lake, and had kept falling through the dark, murky water.

Hermione took a deep breath of air, remembering the way her throat had felt constricted at first. But slowly the pressure had faded and she had been able to breathe beneath the water. And Snape, he had been _there_, under the lake. Although, Hermione thought, he hadn't actually _been_ there, he had _appeared_ from the black bottom of the lake, close to her. And like in so many other dreams, she had been unable to move, or talk to him. A viscous _something_ had held her limbs immobile and her mouth closed. Somehow, she had felt that _he_ had been forcing her to remain unmoving. And then Snape had walked towards her, with his eyes closed, but without hesitation. Even though she had seen the rise and fall of his chest, the flaring nostrils, no air bubbles had escaped his nose. And when he had been but a step from her, he had opened his eyes...

Hermione stood from the stair, a hand flying instinctively to her neck. His eyes had been white. No irises or pupils, no fine blood vessels, nothing. Completely white. And in the dream her jaws had unlocked and she had screamed a soundless scream, because water had flown through her throat, drowning the sound and drowning _her_.

Hermione swallowed hard. She had never dreamt her own death before. _Just a dream_, she told herself, forcing her legs to move forward. _Didn't it have a positive meaning?_ She thought she could remember hearing or reading that dying in your dream is not a bad sign. But still, she barely managed to stop herself from running when she passed the door to Snape's room.

_Tea._ She needed calming, warm tea to wash away the sickening taste of fear. Hermione attempted to clear her thoughts, focusing instead on what she could see around on her way to the kitchen. Thankfully, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were also awake and in the kitchen. They smiled widely, wishing her a good morning and Hermione could feel their warm, tranquil aura envelop her, dissolving the tension she had been feeling. They drank tea and coffee in silence while Hermione enjoyed both the drink and the cosy atmosphere.

By the time she finished her second cup, all thoughts of the strange dream were dissolving, melting away slowly, like the sugar in her mug. It was surprising to see how fast some things could be put aside, forgotten, overlook. _And not just fear, but anger and sadness as well, _Hermione pondered, thinking of her sudden and quiet reconciliation with Ron. Ever since Dumbledore had spoken to them precisely a week prior, both of them had acted like nothing had ever come between their friendship.  
_Perhaps we've finally understood that there are things far more important and threatening than petty arguments and foolish jealousy_, she thought sarcastically.

Hermione blinked in surprise a moment later, when Ron appeared through the kitchen door, followed by a relatively fresher looking Harry. She shook her head, labelling it as mere coincidence and greeting the boys. They both answered 'Good morning' at the same time, Harry wishing the same to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, while Ron only nodded towards his parents. Molly took their arrival as her cue to start preparing breakfast.

They were half way through omelette, bacon, toast and rolls when Ginny entered the kitchen, excusing herself for being late and taking a seat next to Harry, who sat straighter in his chair. It was Ginny who finally approached the subject of Hermione's Christmas gift as soon as they had all finished eating. Hermione looked at all the curious faces and smiled; it was an appropriate moment to tell them, they were all there and after all, they would need a bit of time to get ready. She looked at them again, stalling another moment, just like she had seen in those annoying shows on television. Then she cleared her voice in an imitation of Dolores Umbridge, which earned her a few raised eyebrows.

"Tonight, we are going to see a show of _muggle magic_" she announced dramatically and was met with several reactions. While Ron looked confused, asking 'Muggles do magic?', Mr. Weasley and Harry looked positively excited. Ginny demanded more details, but it was Harry who launched in an animated explanation.

"It's not _actual_ magic, like the one we have and use" he told them, looking at Ron in particular. "All illusions, but they really _do_ look like magic."

"Yes, the show is actually called '_False Impressions_'" Hermione added. "It's not really _tonight_ per-se, more like this evening; it starts at seven. And it's in muggle London, obviously" she said, smiling at Mr. Weasley, "so we'll all have to wear muggle clothes."

Hugs and 'thank you-s' followed, and then she and Ginny immersed in a clothing-related conversation, while Harry continued his explanation for Ron and Mr. Weasley.

………………

By six o'clock in the evening they were all ready to leave.

After a short argument with Mrs. Weasley, who was overly worried about 'the dangers outside', they had gotten in touch with Albus, who had finally managed to assure Molly that they would all be fine, and that Hermione had asked for, and received his approval to go forth with her plan. Afterwards, they had all agreed that muggle transportation was the only reasonable way to get to Barons Court Theatre, where the show was hosted.

With a bit of transfiguration and some adjustments from Hermione and Harry, they were all dressed appropriately for 'a night out in muggle London', as Mr. Weasley had put it. He was by far the most exuberant of them all, grinning all the way until they finally found a taxi a few streets away, and requested a second. After Hermione instructed both drivers where to take them, she, Molly and Ginny took one taxi, and Arthur and the boys the other. She insisted on paying both rides as part of her gift once they reached Comeragh Road.

Hermione had never been to Barons Court before, and now that she finally saw the building, it was rather disappointing. It had nothing special about it, nor was it distasteful or unattended, but it really didn't stand out, or give away its purpose. It also turned out that most of the building was actually a pub, and only the vaults below the pub were occupied by the 'theatre', which made Hermione think about the dungeons at Hogwarts. The atmosphere once they descended resembled said dungeons too. It was a little dark and humid, but the excited chatter of the other spectators gave the room a pleasant air. Their seats were close to the square stage, in the third row and they all settled down, waiting for the show to start.

………………

Two hours later, leaving the theatre, they were all talking animatedly, exchanging opinions, saying which number they had liked best. Ron had a newfound admiration for muggles, being particularly impressed by the levitation and disappearing acts, while Mr. Weasley once again admitted to his wife that he had no idea how the 'merging rings' trick he had been a volunteer for really worked. Ginny had also been picked out by one of the magicians to participate in a card trick and Harry was currently telling her that those tricks were generally based on speed and agility, or even simple logic and calculation some times.

Hermione smiled, feeling quite light-footed. All the happiness and enjoyment around her made her feel at peace and proud to have been behind the obviously pleasant surprise. She hadn't witnessed a real muggle magic-show before either, only a few tricks and numbers, mainly during her childhood years. But this show had been quite spectacular, with its inexplicable performances, from simple, classical scarf-tricks, to complicated ones, with stunning props. Even though she knew very well that they were all illusions, she couldn't help but marvel at the ingenuity.

By the time they arrived back at Grimmauld Place, they were all still laughing and talking about the show. When everyone gathered around her to thank her again for the gift, Hermione felt tears build in her eyes. It was such a touching thing to be able to offer happiness, and she briefly wondered how other people, the ones they were fighting against, could find the same pleasure and satisfaction in _hurting_ others, in causing pain and grief.

………………

Severus sighed as he ran his hands across the sheets of his bed. They would be silver-grey, with green patterns at each corner, but of course, he couldn't see them. It felt disappointingly unsatisfying to be back at Hogwarts, in his own quarters, although it was rather pleasing to have won the dispute with Albus. The headmaster had shown up in the morning, wishing him a great new week and trying to convince him to stay at Headquarters for at least a few more days. Severus had reminded him of their initial understanding, but Dumbledore had claimed, that the whole point of his staying at Grimmauld Place had been to _be seen_ by the others, and that he had purposefully barred himself in his room, avoiding everyone. Severus had remained unmovable though, and in the end, Albus had given up, much to the other wizard's satisfaction.

However, he could feel no difference now between being _here_ or _there_, everything felt the same to him, everything was nothing. Severus sneered disgusted, thinking that it was not like him to be easily crushed, to allow himself to wallow in self-pity. _And this will come to an end_, he told himself. He had every intention of becoming reacquainted with his surroundings until then, and he would start with his own quarters.

The image of his rooms was somewhat unclear in his mind. Of course, he knew _what_ was in them, at least regarding furniture, but he couldn't place the objects in space, couldn't envision them. And he couldn't grasp the notion of distance without seeing. That was the most difficult part of loosing his sight; with it, he had also lost his sense of orientation, time and space had become something difficult to grasp. And while the matter of time had been easily settled with a grandfather clock, that of space was bound to be taxing.

Severus stood from the bed. It was going to be a slow, time-consuming task, but there was really nothing else for him to do, he thought bitterly. He would create a new image of everything that surrounded him, a different one, based on touch and sound and counting his every step.

………

It had taken him no more than three days to become skilled at navigating around his rooms without hesitation. Three days, numerous bruises, even more curses and a few shattered objects, to be precise. But now, it felt like a small victory to Severus, to be able to walk without faltering, without waving his arms before him, or without hitting anything. _Perhaps this will prove useful even after I will see again_, Severus thought. It was but one tiny win among a myriad of losses though, but it was also worth it, he thought; despite the initial frustration, now, after this one conquest, he truly felt that it was worth the effort.

And the constant activity had taken his mind off of the more delicate matters of the future. He wanted to attempt to go through the same 'learning' process with his office and maybe even venture into the corridors while most students were still away for the holidays. But there was something else he wished to do first, something…more personal.

Severus moved with ease, avoiding all the objects in his path, trailing a sure hand over their edges and measuring the distance in steps. He walked decidedly towards the study and stopped before the bookshelves. His private book collection was something he had always taken great pride in before, when he could enjoy it. But lately, it had always been with great regret that he had thought about reading, about books… That was why he had avoided dwelling upon such thoughts. But now he had made up his mind.

He ran his fingers over the book spines, taking in the different textures: the rough feel of old, leather-bound tomes, the smooth surface of the newer books, the frayed cardboard and sweet smell of paper. He knew that he _had_ noticed all this before, but back then it hadn't mattered, it had only been a meaningless observation.

A certain idea hadn't left his thoughts ever since his last encounter with Granger. Could it be possible to create a spell that would make the book read itself out loud? He wasn't certain, but he was determined to try.

The other night, Dumbledore had come down to talk to him again, and also, Severus suspected, to distract him from the burning mark on his arm. The first meeting he had missed, and instead of being relieved that he no longer had to bear the presence of the Dark Lord and his followers, it had left him with a sense of unease. The conversation with the headmaster had led Severus to believe that Albus was deciding what valuable information he could sacrifice to regain his spy's position among the Death Eaters. And despite his personal _difficulties_ with the current situation, Severus had to agree with Albus, that returning to the Dark Lord too soon with something significant would raise suspicions. So, he would have to wait and try to not let the darkness overcome him.

Which was why he wanted, _needed_ to do something about the books.

His hands settled on a book and he pulled it out of the shelf slowly. He traced its entire surface with his fingers, like a gentle caress, committing every mark to memory. It was leather-bound and felt old, yet he could still feel the protruding title. Severus tried to make out the letters, but soon sighed in defeat.

His thoughts turned again towards Granger, and the muggle _audio-books_ she had mentioned, wondering how exactly they worked. They were probably something like the radio, he thought. But certainly not as idiotic as the broadcastings he had listened to for the past week.

_Miss Hermione Granger_…the girl was a rather a-typical Gryffindor, if he thought about it. She had something in her reminiscent of every Hogwarts house: thirst for knowledge, foolish bravery, sentimental loyalty and, he had to admit, a bit of cunning. _If only she would learn how to think for herself and keep her infuriating mouth shut every once in a while_. Still, there were things one could not always deduce without research and documentation…like the subject she had approached him with.

Severus pondered an idea for a few moments. _Should he or shouldn't he? _Eventually, he shook his head and decided. He probably shouldn't, but he _would_, anyway. At least someone should make good use of his books, and he knew that _she_ certainly would. Severus placed the old book back in its spot and took a few steps away from the bookshelf, taking his wand out of the left sleeve. A slight wave and soon enough, a book flew from the shelf, straight into his waiting hand. He didn't flinch at the contact.

Before he could change his mind, Severus turned around facing the room and shouted: "Dobby!"

………………

A new year had started. Hermione sighed, wondering what it would bring, hoping it would be better than the one they had left behind.

She was seated in the same chair she had occupied during her conversation with professor Snape a few days ago. The house was blessedly quiet after the other night's ruckus, or _celebration_, as Ron had called it. Hermione shook her head in amusement. The boys, especially the twins, had really outdone themselves with its organization, decorating the dining room, procuring music and even smuggling some drinks, which, surprisingly, Molly hadn't detected. No wonder they were all still knocked out in bed, she thought, grinning to herself.

Hermione chewed on the end of a pencil, focusing her thoughts back on the agenda in her lap, a gift from her parents. On one of the pages she had just written 'New Year's Resolutions', underlining it with a flourish. It had become a custom for her to make such a list every year, despite the fact that she rarely accomplished all of the resolutions, except the ones related to studying. This year, however, she would not write "learn more" at the top of her list. That was something she would do anyway, it didn't have to be a resolution, as it was part of her nature.

Hermione pondered for a few more minutes, staring away into nothingness, until she finally put the tip of her pencil to the paper and wrote.

_· Talk less, listen more__._

She smiled. That would prove to be a challenge.

_·__ Think of what you say __before__ actually saying it._

Hermione inhaled deeply, mentally running through a list of her own faults and what she could do to better them.

_·__ Have more patience with immature colleagues._

But then she crossed out 'immature' – that was certainly not a show of patience and understanding.

_·__ Stop looking down on others who have different interests – _There, that sounded pacifying.

_· Be more forgiving –_ she wrote, thinking of Ron in particular.

_· Take more time to see the beauty in all things__._

_· Help those who need help –_ and then, thinking of Snape, she added – _even if they'll never admit to it. _

And don't expect gratitude, she mumbled.

She read through her list and smiled. It was enough; more than enough, actually, but if she would do at least half of those things, she would be pleased with herself.

Hermione closed the agenda, a smile still playing on her lips, and stood up, walking out of the room and towards the stairs. She didn't want anyone else to read her resolutions, so she would have to hide the agenda before she got caught with it. Opening the door to the room she shared with Ginny, she walked in on her toes, trying to make as little noise as she could. She reached her bed and was about to bend down and pull her trunk from beneath it, when she noticed something on the nightstand; something that hadn't been there before.

A small, paper-wrapped object, that looked suspiciously like a book lay there, with a note attached to it. She looked at Ginny, who was still fast asleep, and then back at the mysterious object; Hermione gently extended a hand, pulled the note away and then almost dropped it when she felt a warm wave of magic through the tips of her fingers. But curiosity won over caution and she unfolded the parchment, looking straight at the signature and barely suppressing a gasp. Hermione threw another furtive glance at the wrapped object, almost certain now that it was a book, and then she read the note.

_Miss Granger,_

_The wizarding population of Europe is considerably younger  
compared to that of other continents, which is partly the reason  
for its lack of documentation concerning the origin of spells  
and magic in general.  
You would do well to cause no damage whatsoever to this book,  
lest you wish to suffer the consequences, as it is a very rare and  
valuable piece.  
__  
SS_

'_Oh- my- God!' _was all she could think. That was just…unbelievable. A book – he had sent her a book! And about the spells too. Hermione would have squealed, if her shock would have allowed her too – and if she would have been alone, of course. Instead, she extended a shaky hand and grabbed _the_ _book_ from the nightstand, holding it to her chest. Just then, Ginny turned in her sleep causing Hermione to start.

Clutching both note and book, she rushed to the bathroom and locked the door behind her. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Hermione tore the brownish paper away and bit her lower lip to stifle her excitement. She smiled foolishly at the dark-blue leathern cover of the book and ran a finger over the fading silver letters of the title and author's name.

"_Bereshit – In the Beginning"_

_Makaya Simbi _

**

* * *

Author's ****(loooong) notes**

Hermione's dream had not initially been in plan, but somehow I got the idea and couldn't (_wouldn't_, really) let it go. I try not to attribute any of my interests/habits to the characters, but dreams simply intrigue me too much for me to leave them out.  
By the way, according to , "To dream that you die in your dream, symbolizes inner changes, transformation, self-discovery and positive development that is happening within you or in your life. Although such a dream may bring about feelings of fear and anxiety, it is no cause for alarm and is often considered a positive symbol."  
In my country, dreaming that you die means that _your death_ is dying, so it's a good thing.

The magic show's title was taken from www. falseimpressions. – they really do hold magic shows at Barons Court Theatre, Comeragh Road, in London, in the cellars of "The Curtain's Up" Pub.

Hermione's Resolutions were inspired by Gabriel Garcia Marquez's farewell poem, "The Puppet"

I've had a fascinating 'encounter' with Haitian Voodoo through a novel called "Continental Drift", by Russell Banks. '_Makaya Simbi_' was taken from that religion, as it is the name of the _Snake Loa_, or Snake Deity in their voodoo culture. And 'Bereshit' means 'in the beginning' in Hebrew (according to wikipedia).  
EDIT: louisethelibrarian reminded me that Bereshit is the Hebrew name for the first book of the Torah; in English, Genesis. Thank you, Louise!

Next Chapter it's back to Hogwarts for everyone, and some interesting things will surface, which will be very important for the story.


	8. Chapter 7 The Burden of Knowledge

Chapter 7 – The Burden of Knowledge

"_The truth is rarely pure and never simple.__"  
Oscar Wilde_

Arthur and Tonks escorted them back to Hogwarts on Sunday morning. Hermione tried to hide her excitement from her friends. '_Ron would only call me mental again_', she thought with a smile. But her enthusiasm was not related to starting classes this time. No; she hoped she would be able to talk to Professor Snape.

She had wanted to write to him that day, when she had found the book, but realised that, even if he would have succeeded to take the letter from the owl, he would not have been able to read it. Hermione had already finished the book and reread some parts, but she wished she could discuss it with someone. With a _certain_ someone. Of course, she also wanted to thank him for the amazingly unexpected – '_and_ _uncharacteristic_', she added – gesture, to ask him how he had sent the book in the first place, and why…A thousand questions had formed in her mind after recovering from the initial shock of finding the book and his note, yet she knew that he would probably never answer any of them; she shouldn't even try to ask.

It felt refreshing to enter through the main gates of the castle, and even better to be in their Common Room, to exchange greetings with all their friends and listen to animated holiday recounts. And luckily for Hermione, Lavender had yet to return. After nearly two hours of chatting and laughter, she and Ginny were finally allowed to go up to their dormitory and unpack, but only after Ron made his sister promise that she would, if necessary, drag Hermione back down so they could all go together to the Great Hall for lunch, in _no_ _more_ than thirty minutes. The girls rolled their eyes and Ginny almost managed to keep a straight face when she said 'Yes, sir!'.

They did, in fact, exceed their generous half an hour, but Ron only muttered 'Finally' and made no other comment as he stood from the couch and walked towards the exit. Harry, on the other hand, rushed towards the foot of the stairs just as Ginny descended, followed by Hermione. He extended a hand towards her, bowed and said 'Lady Ginevra', a grin on his face. Hermione watched as Ginny slowly took his offered hand, blushed and replied 'Why thank you, Sir Henric'. Everyone who was still in the Common Room observed in astonishment, until Ginny finally burst into laughter and they followed suit.

………

Hermione ate in a rush, occasionally stealing glances at Harry and Ginny, who were sitting together across from her. '_Finally_' she thought, smiling fondly. They seemed somewhat oblivious to all the people around them, to the noise and chatter in the nearly full Great Hall.

As expected, Professor Snape was not there, although a few other teachers were absent from lunch as well, including the headmaster. Hermione drank her pumpkin juice emptying the goblet, and prepared to stand. She excused herself, claiming that there was something about a book she needed to check, which was actually a vague variation of the truth. None of her friends seemed surprised and it made her feel slightly guilty. She _could_ tell them about Snape's book, it wasn't an actual secret, but somehow she didn't really want to let them know.

Hermione made her way out of the Great Hall and headed for the dungeons, hoping she would be able to find Professor Snape in his office, because quite frankly, she had no idea where his private quarters were. The corridors were completely devoid of students, which was exactly why Hermione had stayed so little for lunch. She neared the corridor that lead to Snape's office, grateful to have met no Slytherins at all, when she suddenly heard a voice.

"Sir, sir wait!" the voice pleaded and Hermione stopped in her tracks. Of all the people, it had to be _him_, Malfoy. She had identified him despite the fact that she had never heard him speak in such a beseeching tone before and that in itself was rather peculiar. She peaked from behind the corner she had been about to round. He was a good ten feet in front of her, physically unrecognisable in his long, hooded cloak, walking after another dark figure.

"Professor, please!"

His voice resonated through the dark, empty corridor quite loudly making the other man stop abruptly and turn towards him with his robes twirling and billowing in an unmistakable way.

"What do you want, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked brusquely. "I thought you had made your desire to be left alone quite clear the last time we spoke."

The answer was so quiet that Hermione had to strain to catch it.

"I…actually, I wanted to apologize for that, sir."

Hermione held her breath. Harry had told them about that conversation between Malfoy and their professor, and now they were being spied on once again. She couldn't make out their faces in the dim light, but she thought she heard Snape snort. Just then, she realized that he had been walking through the corridor unaided, his steps sure. For a moment she thought, hoped, that maybe he could see again, but, squinting a little, she could tell that the professor's head wasn't exactly orientated towards Malfoy.

"I was unpardonably rude then –" Malfoy continued, but Snape cut him off.

"There is no point in apologizing, Mr. Malfoy, if your behaviour was _un_pardonable."

That seemed to make the boy even more nervous and he stammered through his next words.

"Uhm, perhaps, sir…but…I feel guilty about it –"

"And felt the need to alleviate your burdened conscience; how _selfless_ of you" Snape mocked. "No! No, sir" Draco quickly added, but Snape just went on, as if Malfoy hadn't said a word.

"Do not worry, boy, I will not _bother_ you again with my offers of assistance. But I will watch with –" he stopped abruptly, realizing his mistake; he would not watch _anything_ for now, he thought fleetingly, "–with utmost interest, what other absurd plans you will come up with. What next? Earrings, perhaps?" he said in a poisonous voice. "Do you really believe that Albus Dumbledore is a fool? That you can outsmart him? If so, then you are even more of an imbecile than I thought."

Hermione leaned against the wall for support. What was that all about? But her mind had already made certain connections; somewhere below her conscious thinking she knew what their words meant, she simply couldn't acknowledge it, couldn't accept it. It was impossible. Had Harry really been right about Malfoy? Was he a –? Did he curse –? Surely not… And the headmaster was actually the –? And Professor Snape knew and was part of… '_No! No-no-no!_' her mind kept screaming. It just couldn't be.

"I…I just wanted to tell you that I feel guilty, that I _know_ I was wrong" Malfoy said after a moment of silence. "Very, _very_ wrong" he added weakly.

"About our previous conversation?" Snape inquired in a voice that betrayed a hint of suspicion and surprise.

"No, sir" Draco croaked. "I mean, not _just_ about that."

Snape took a step towards him and hissed "What did you do?"

Malfoy seemed to cower before the looming, dark man and Hermione would have felt pity for him, were it not for her own fears; the fear of being discovered and the fear of what she had heard and what she would still hear.

"_What_ did you do?" Snape asked again, his voice even more dangerous.

"I – after our discussion that night, I…wrote a letter to my mother" Draco finally began. "I told her that you kept…insisting that I accept your help – I was a little angry when I wrote to her and I…blamed her for making you vow to watch over me, to see that I finish my _task_."

Draco gulped audibly, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, kneading his hands, but he kept his head bent. Professor Snape, on the other hand, was so still, that it almost seemed that he wasn't even breathing.

"I didn't – _couldn't_ have known that _he_ was monitoring all my letters."

Snape's loud intake of breath made it quite clear that there was no doubt about who _he_ was. He said something in a voice so low, that Hermione couldn't hear what it was, but he seemed to lean towards Malfoy.

"Sir, I swear, I didn't know" Draco pleaded again. "I didn't want – I didn't think anyone would get hurt. You believe –" but whatever he wanted to say was cut short by Snape's whispered 'Quiet'.

Hermione pulled back, behind the wall. Straining her ears, she barely managed to distinguish the sound of footsteps descending towards the dungeons. Professor Snape motioned for Malfoy to walk with him and the word 'office' reached Hermione's ears. She leaned forward again and watched the two retreating figures, staring at Snape's back, who was holding Malfoy's shoulder in what was bound to be a painful grip, apparently leading him along the corridor. Hermione shook her head at the paradoxical image and rushed back towards the staircase, past a couple of surprised Slytherin students.

'_What_ _do_ _I_ _do_ _now?_' she asked herself desperately as she continued running through long corridors, unaware of where she was actually heading to. She was certain now that she had drawn the correct conclusions from the overheard conversation, but was Snape just acting his role as Dumbledore's spy, or had he really managed to deceive the headmaster? Hermione ardently wished that it was the former, but she could absolutely not risk it by keeping the whole incident to herself. She _had_ to speak to Professor Dumbledore.

……………

Albus Dumbledore was seated at his desk, in the headmaster's office, reading a letter. He looked up from the parchment when he felt the wards shift, then heard the spiral staircase move and raised his eyebrows. He wasn't expecting anyone. A few moments later there was a knock at his door and he asked whoever it was to come in.

The door opened slowly and Hermione Granger walked in, looking around nervously.

"Miss Granger, what a wonderful surprise" he greeted warmly, gesturing for her to have a seat too. "I trust your holidays were pleasant? I assume you've only just arrived to Hogwarts a few hours ago."

She nodded silently, looking a little lost.

"All ready to recommence classes?"

Again, Hermione nodded. That was strange, Albus thought. The girl was always communicative and never short of words. An uneasy feeling started to crawl through his body. '_Something_ _must_ _be_ _wrong_' he thought as his eyes pierced her expression.

"Is something bothering you, my dear?" he asked and then she looked up, meeting his eyes. Something was _indeed_ troubling her, Albus concluded. She seemed close to tears.

"Would you like some tea or a goblet of water perhaps?"

"No, sir, thank you" she finally said.

She fell silent again and Albus was beginning to feel slightly impatient, needing to know what the problem was. He encouraged her again to tell him what had obviously affected her so and he watched as Miss Granger drew in a deep breath.

"Professor, I…" she began, "I overheard something a few moments ago; a conversation." She swallowed hard, avoiding his eyes again. "Draco Malfoy was talking to – to Professor Snape and…I'm not sure what to make of it."

Albus' nostrils flared imperceptibly at her words. He had a feeling he knew exactly what Severus and Draco could have been discussing to determine the young Gryffindor to come to him. But how much had she heard? He was rather surprised by Severus' uncharacteristic carelessness. He would normally never talk about such manners in exposed places. Unless… No, no, it was even more unlikely that Miss Granger had overheard them in Severus' office. Albus studied her face again and decided to let _her_ speak. It was better to find out exactly what she knew before he made any more unnecessary revelations.

"Hermione," he said softly, drawing her attention to him, "you know that I trust Severus completely."

She nodded slowly. "Yes, sir, I know. I've always trusted Professor Snape too. Well…except for a few times" she amended with a fleeting smile. "It's just that…I don't trust Draco Malfoy at all, sir. Harry has been particularly suspicious of him this year. He thought he had…taken the Dark Mark," she said in an almost whisper, "but Ron and I disagreed with him."

Hermione stopped talking and sighed, shaking her head. "Now I'm afraid he was right all along. I really think he has become a…a Death Eater."

The girl looked horrified at the thought. And she was right too. Albus ran a hand over his beard, wondering if he should have tried harder to help Draco realise that there _was_ an alternative; that he didn't have to succumb to his father's or Riddle's wishes. But it was probably too late now and it would not end well. Not for Draco, not for himself, not even for Severus, not really – not for his peace of mind. He squeezed his eyes shut, wondering what more he could do, what other mistakes to avoid in the future. When he opened his eyes again, Miss Granger was staring at him with worried eyes. He smiled reassuringly. So young and yet so perceptive and smart, so devoted to her friends and her sense of justice…

She interrupted his thoughts when she spoke again. "Professor, I think that it was Draco who cursed Katie with the necklace." She was looking straight at him, probably trying to catch his reaction to her statement. And then her eyes widened when he showed no signs of surprise. "You knew…" she whispered and averted her eyes. "And you've let him stay here nonetheless…he could hurt someone else" Hermione added accusingly, leaving him no choice but to explain his decision.

"Hermione, I know you dislike Draco Malfoy, and for good reason. But please try to put yourself in his stead and you will see that he knew no better before; he was brought up to be exactly as he is. And now, when he has begun to question his father's reasoning…well, it's certainly not an enviable position." Albus looked at her, taking her calculating expression as a positive sign.

"All the children of Death Eaters are in a delicate situation, forced to follow their parents' allegiance. Of course, some are more than willing, but you will find that most are hesitant, if not opposed to it."

"But can't they see that there is always a choice, an alternative?" she interjected. "It isn't always the easiest one, but still…"

Albus smiled at her again. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that it was very un-pedagogic to care for some students more than for others but it was also very human and couldn't be helped. And this promising young woman was somewhere at the top of his mental list.

"Not all are courageous enough to take the right, yet more difficult path, I'm afraid" he answered. "But let us return to young Mr. Malfoy. Voldemort knows exactly how to break others. He knows how to play on their fears and enjoys it, no matter if his victims are enemies or followers." He watched for her reaction the entire time and was rather pleased to see that Riddle's self-appointed name did not make her flinch or start.

"You know that his father lead the failed mission in the Department of Mysteries last year," at this, she averted her eyes, a slight blush colouring her still pale cheeks, "and Voldemort was…well, displeased, to put it euphemistically. But Lucius is in Azkaban, so _he_ directed his punishment elsewhere."

"Draco?" she asked uncertainly.

"Directly yes, towards Draco. Indirectly, however, it affects their entire family."

She was looking at him with such curious eyes that Albus felt that perhaps telling her so much was unwise. But he was sure he could count on her discretion.

"He has given Draco an extremely difficult task to accomplish, knowing very well that he would fail. Voldemort is…let's say _toying_ with his food." Albus watched as she swallowed hard but remained quiet. "When Draco fails, he will more than likely kill him for it and the Malfoys are aware of that aspect; that is _their_ punishment, their torture."

The silence that followed seemed quite heavy even to Albus. His thoughts drifted again towards the future, as they were want to do lately, but he could find no difference, no alternative; he had already made his _choice_ and he would have to live, or in his case _die_ with it. It was the lesser of two evils.

"He must kill you" Hermione whispered and this time his eyes _did_ widen. How in Merlin's name did she know that? No one knew, no one besides Severus and himself.

"That really is Draco's task" she said and it was not a question.

Albus shook his head gently. Draco. She had been talking about he boy; not about Severus. He had obviously misunderstood, linking his trail of thought with her statement. Of course she couldn't have known about what he had asked Severus to do. Strangely, he did not feel relieved by that realisation.

"Perhaps you should tell me everything you've discovered so far, my dear" he said to her, sounding less troubled than he actually was. Hermione, on the other hand, looked every bit as uncomfortable as she probably felt.

Slowly, hesitatingly, she recounted everything from the beginning, starting with why she had happened to be in the dungeons in the first place. Albus was surprised to learn about the book Severus had lent her, knowing very well how possessive the man was when it came to his library. It was an interesting thing that he had willingly sent _her_ a book. But that notion was quickly cast aside when he realised that Hermione knew about Severus' Unbreakable Vow as well. One of their most guarded secrets, and she had discovered it so quickly. He would have to ask Severus to speak with more caution with Draco, and in more secluded places, before such information reached the wrong ears.

Albus was once again surprised when she reached the point where Draco had told Severus about the letter. He brought a hand to his forehead and sighed. So that was how Tom had learnt about the Vow. That letter had cost Severus his sight.

"Headmaster?" she asked in a low voice and Albus looked into her eyes, encouraging her to speak. "May I ask you a question about…this?" she continued, making a circular, all-encompassing gesture with her hands. He merely nodded and watched her inhale deeply.

"Did you know about Professor Snape's Vow, sir?"

Albus smiled again. He had expected her to ask him that right after telling him that she knew about the Vow, but she had waited to finish first.

"I knew about the Unbreakable Vow from the day Severus took it, because he told me about it." Hermione sighed in relief, her shoulders sagged and she leaned back in her chair. It obviously meant a lot to her and he was silently glad that she wanted to trust Severus. A moment later, her expression tensed again.

"But…sir, that means that…" She looked at him, panicked and unable to speak her conclusion out loud.

"That either I die, or Severus and Draco die" Albus finished for her.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Her eyes filled with stinging tears as she whispered "What will you do, sir?"

Her sadness touched him and Albus leaned across the desk to place his good hand over her restless ones.

"I will save two valuable lives" he said simply, looking into her eyes again, and Hermione froze. The tears that had gathered in her eyes fell from her lashes, onto her cheeks and followed the planes of her face, meandering like a river until they adjoined at the tip of her chin.

"Draco will undoubtedly fail; I'm sure his heart and mind are not in this" Albus added. "Which only leaves one option…"

They sat in silence for what felt like a long time to Albus, their heaving chests and her flowing tears the only signs that they were in fact alive. But then Hermione wiped her eyes and cheeks with her sleeves, looking suddenly very determined.

"There _must_ be another way" she exclaimed in a voice that admitted no contradiction. "There just has to be a way around it, a way to save _everyone_. The Order can protect Draco; we simply have to find a loophole in the Vow Professor Snape took. Maybe they didn't settle a time limit to its fulfilment. Or maybe –"

"Hermione," Albus interrupted her, "do you really believe we haven't tried to find a better solution? Severus has given it even more thought and effort than I have…If it were up to him, the solution would be a very different one."

Albus shook his head, staring at his damaged hand sadly.

"But there is no point, no point at all to lose everything when I am already –"

He didn't finish what he was about to say though, because the fire in his hearth roared with fire and Severus Snape appeared through the green flames. Both Hermione and the headmaster turned towards him and the girl nearly gasped while her cheeks reddened with embarrassment again.

………………

_Breathe in, breath out. Breathe in…_Good, he was already calmer. _That careless, idiot boy._ He had been the reason for his current situation.

Severus had sent him away after a lengthy bout of criticism and now he needed to compose himself and talk to Albus. He stood from the chair he had crashed into after Draco's departure and headed towards the hearth, following his new mental image of the office, as well as the radiating heat. A wicked smile curled his lips as he felt for the small case with floo powder. It was a rebellious pleasure to go against the headmaster's wishes and he had been asked _not_ to try to travel by floo on his own, as Albus considered it dangerous given his lack of sight. He schooled his features into a blank expression and tossed the powder into the flames, stepping in after he heard the fire hiss. A second later, he stepped out of the headmaster's hearth and took a moment to re-orientate. Severus was about to speak but he was cut off by Dumbledore's chastisement.

"I've specifically asked you _not _to use the floo unless it's an emergency, Severus" but the accused brushed off the reproach with a wave of a hand.

"It _is_ an emergency, headmaster" he said sternly. "I have just discovered some very interesting facts, missing pieces to the puzzle, so to speak."

Severus walked towards the desk with a partly outstretched hand, knowing that it would soon make contact with one of the chairs in front of Albus' desk. He stopped abruptly when someone gasped. The headmaster was not alone…

"I've had a very interesting conversation too, Severus" Albus said, sensing his question. "With Miss Granger" he clarified, and Severus lifted an eyebrow in a disbelieving expression.

"Good afternoon, Professor."

But Severus didn't answer her, addressing the headmaster instead. "It's the first day of school after the holidays, what could you _possibly _need to talk about already?"

There was a short, silent pause before Albus answered him. "Perhaps you should sit down too, my boy." Severus scowled at the headmaster's familiarity; and in front of _her_ too. Well, at least he hadn't called him 'my _dear_ boy', he thought sarcastically, taking the other seat before the large desk.

"This really is important, Albus" he insisted. "I'm sure whatever Christmas stories Miss Granger was telling you can _wait_." He was somewhat surprised to garner no reaction from the girl and briefly wondered why she was so quiet.

"Severus, there's little you will tell me about your discoveries that Miss Granger doesn't already know."

He blinked in confusion. The chair next to his creaked as if it were heavily leaned on and he could distinguish the sound of rustling clothes. Still, Severus didn't understand.

"Perhaps you will deem to explain what in Merlin's name you are talking about, headmaster."

There was no explanation though; just Miss Granger's constant fidgeting again, until, finally, Albus answered.

"Well, Hermione informed me that she had been on her way to your office when a rather uncommon scene stopped her in her tracks" he began. "Imagine her surprise, or anyone else's in her place, when she saw _you_ rushing down the corridor, pursued by a pleading Mr. Malfoy."

Severus' blood drained from his already pale face leaving it so devoid of colour that it appeared to reflect the sunlight. Anger rushed through his veins instead; first anger with himself, for being thoughtless enough to hold such a conversation within reach of unwelcome ears. And he had criticised the boy for his lack of discretion…_fool. _But then his anger transferred upon _her_. Anger and betrayal mixed in a chaotic pattern in his mind. He had begun to trust her and that was his gratitude: he had been spied upon!

"I'm sure you can guess what sort of impression your conversation made on Miss Granger" Albus said, startling Severus and reminding him that they were not alone in the room. "She made the right choice by coming to me to tell me what she had reluctantly witnessed, and now everything is clear."

But Severus was still to furious to admit that his talk with Draco would have alerted anyone; that the girl's decision to inform Dumbledore was not betrayal, but fear. So when she apologised in a weak, hesitating voice he snapped at her, saying that he was not interested. Of course, he regretted his wording immediately, as the memory of other, older unaccepted apologies dug its sharp claws in his chest. He was grateful when Albus spoke again, breaking the pressing silence.

"Well, Hermione, I'm sure your friends are wondering what has happened to you by now, so perhaps you should return to them before they organise a search party" the headmaster said jokingly, but she obviously realised it was her cue to leave.

"Yes, sir" she said in a voice that didn't conceal her relief, immediately standing from her chair. She bid them 'Good Day', but before she got to the door the headmaster called her name and she turned to face him.

"I'm sure we can count on your discretion" he said, his voice no longer cheerful. "Let us please keep this matter between the three of us."

She consented to the headmaster's request – not that she could have responded differently, Severus thought; but whether or not she would respect it remained to be seen. As soon as he heard the staircase begin its spiral downwards, Severus addressed the headmaster.

"How much does she know?"

The low chuckle that followed both surprised and annoyed him. This was a matter of utmost consequence and Albus found it amusing…

"She has heard your entire conversation, until you finally remembered you were in a normally circulated corridor." It was wrapped up in a joke, but the headmaster's answer was still a reproach; and he deserved it. Severus winced at the thought of Hermione Granger's eavesdropping performance.

"Of course," he seethed, "_she_ doesn't do things halfway." He slammed his fists against the desk and ran a hand through his hair, a little too forcefully. "_Idiot_" he muttered to himself.

"And she has drawn the correct conclusions from everything she has heard" Albus added calmly, probably enjoying the opportunity to make him feel uncomfortable, knowing that he couldn't say anything in his defence. "About Draco, your Vow to Narcissa…I had to tell her about our understanding too, about the solution."

Severus was speechless. "You _what_? Albus, are you mad?"

But the headmaster was unfazed. "It was the only way, I couldn't let her believe you were deceiving us."

"You should have _obliviated_ her" Severus spat. But Albus only chuckled again, saying 'Really, Severus' in a lightly admonishing tone.

"You _know_ she is probably recounting everything to Potter and Weasley as we speak" Severus added. "And what happens when Potter cannot conceal his thoughts from the Dark Lord? But of course, _you_ will not be the one whose loyalty he will test in yet another _ingenious_ way, so why should it matter" he finished, crossing his arms. He knew it was a ridiculous accusation and that it was an unlikely scenario, but he couldn't help it.

"I trust Hermione" Albus stated matter-of-factly. "I'm sure you will disagree with me, Severus, but the girl has a great deal of respect for you." Albus ignored his disbelieving snort and continued. "She looked quite stricken at the thought that you might not be on our side and her relief, when I told her that I already knew about the Vow, was obvious" he insisted, but Severus convinced himself that he didn't care about her respect or trust.

"And quite frankly, I also told her so much because I've come to believe that this might actually have been a fortunate circumstance" Albus pondered after a moment. "No, listen to me" he added quickly, before Severus could interrupt with what would surely have been an acidic remark. "After I will no longer be here – don't argue, let me finish! – after I die, _she_ can be your link to Harry" he explained and Severus' eyebrows gathered in a frown.

"Yes, who would be better suited than her?" Dumbledore asked rhetorically. "She is one of his closest friends; she will always be at his side…she is intelligent too and would surely find a way to communicate with you without arousing his suspicion." Severus was certain that the headmaster was no longer talking to him, but, rather, thinking aloud. Yet he couldn't agree with him.

"Albus, you forget that she doesn't have to take part in it; she _shouldn't_ have to either."

"It would be the best solution, Severus, you must admit it" Dumbledore replied. "And I'm sure you know that no one would force her to do anything. Should Hermione decide to take the role of mediator upon herself, it would be entirely her choice."

"And you would make sure to call upon her honour and foolishness to determine her to take _your_ choice" Severus accused. "Won't it matter that she is young and still inexperienced, that her connection to me would put her in constant danger from both sides?"

"Well, if you really care so much about her, Severus…" the headmaster interjected in an amused tone. But Severus did _not _find any part of the situation funny. Breathing angrily he rose from the chair, preparing to leave.

"Do as you wish, headmaster" he said coldly. "If this is not an issue that requires seriousness, then I shall retreat to my rooms." He turned and walked towards the fireplace as fast as his lack of sight allowed him to, just as Dumbledore stood up, scraping his chair on the floor.

"Severus…" he called, his voice apologetic and pacifying.

But Severus didn't turn towards him. He found the floo-case on the hearth, took a small amount of it between his fingers and threw it into the flames.

"It doesn't matter, Albus" he said, preparing to step in and disappear to his quarters. "In the end, you are always the one who makes all the decisions."

* * *

Author's Notes

Sorry for the update-delay! I was away from home for 10 days and had no internet (the horror!!!). It's good to be back home.  
I _did_ have my laptop with me, so I managed to write this chapter and half of the next.

I hope you've enjoyed this one; reviews are always a joy.


	9. Chapter 8 With Meaning

Chapter 8 – With Meaning

_"First learn the meaning of what you say, and then speak."__  
Epictetus_

Severus felt an unbearable urge to shatter and destroy something. Sometimes he wondered if all the effort was worth it, if his actions would indeed matter. But perhaps _that_ was his punishment: wasting his life in vain, for the absolution he would never be granted. Frustration and anger made his hands shake as he paced through his living-room. It was all so complicated and Albus had made sure to make it even _more_ difficult to manage. Why? Why involve the girl too? And he had not even been consulted in a matter that involved him above anyone else. Albus was making a habit out of presenting him with his unmovable decisions, which were to be respected without protestation.

The feeling of powerlessness, the obligation to follow orders and the constant darkness and monotony were wearing him down, grating on his nerves and making him extremely irritated. Not for the first time, he wished to be someplace where no one would bother him, where he would be alone and free and tranquil. Severus gloomily thought that the closest he would ever get to that Elysium, would indeed be _after_ his death – a few feet beneath the ground and in the earth.

He shook his head to scatter the images those thoughts had conjured. There was really no point in feeding his anger with such notions; it would not help in any way. He briefly thought that nothing would probably help. The best way to stop thinking was, of course, acting, doing something, working…But he no longer had that _privilege_. Severus snorted derisively, realising that a pile of first-years' essays to correct would have felt like a blessing to him at that moment.

But then his brows moved to form a frown as an idea defined its contours in his mind. '_It's_ _possible…_ _feasible'_, Severus pondered and stroked his chin with a thin finger. But there was still the matter of _reading_ that had to be solved first. And that in itself was the perfect opportunity to channel his anger towards something productive, something he could benefit from. If his walks outside had led to such an undesired result, he would remain isolated in his rooms, where he did not have to endure the presence of any of the castle's other inhabitants.

With his mind made up, Severus stopped pacing and strode to the bookshelf with determination, angrily slapping his hands across the wooden surfaces of his furniture as he walked. As soon as he reached it, he randomly picked out a book, tossed it on the desk nearby and felt for the adjoining chair, taking a seat. Grasping the book tightly, he leaned into the backrest, eyes closed, and let his mind wrap around different possibilities and words.

………………

Hermione looked up from her book and sighed. They were in the Defence Against the Dark Arts class and the atmosphere was uncommonly dull. She spied several yawning colleagues, but none of them outdid Ron; he looked like he was going to swallow Neville, who sat in front of him. _He _seemed to have no problem with their new circumstance; quite the contrary, he looked at ease in the absence of the feared Professor Snape and he took notes while he read the current lesson, his quill waving in the air like a flag.

The rumour that Professor Snape would no longer be able to teach because he had lost his eye sight had spread with unusual speed from the first day of school after the holidays. Ironically, it had mainly been the Slytherins themselves who had started circulating the news; those who were the children of Death Eaters and had learnt about it from their parents. Hermione felt ashamed of her colleagues. Most of them seemed to think that '_he deserves it_' and many weren't even in Gryffindor.

After the first week, when the other professors had divided the DADA classes between themselves, covering for Professor Snape, a new, unexpected and unexplained arrangement had been made.

An assignment appeared on the board at the beginning of every class and they had been instructed to study independently, during class-time, and write the answers or the demanded essay. The task of gathering the rolls of parchment after every class had been given to one student from each class, who was to sort them alphabetically and leave them on the desk. Order and silence were kept by a set of ward-like spells, which would alert the teachers if their requirements were not respected.

Hermione entertained the thought that it was Professor Snape himself who set the assignments and graded them, mainly because of the comments and notes, which seemed very Snape-like; although, the picture of someone from the staff reading the essays aloud to the proud DADA professor was farfetched. She hadn't seen or spoken to him for nearly three weeks, since that dreadfully embarrassing afternoon. She had felt so ashamed to have to confess to the headmaster that she had pried on something that was absolutely not her business; and then when _he_ had materialised in the headmaster's office… Hermione ground her teeth. Just as he had started to regard her as something a little more worthy than a silly, annoying child…

And she still had to return the book he had sent. Hermione shook her head. It was bound to be the first and only book she would ever borrow from him. She had kept it for almost a month, surely a lot longer than Professor Snape had ever intended for her to have it. After fleeing his anger in the headmaster's office that day, Hermione had thought about sending him the book by owl, but not only would that have been another sign of cowardice and disrespect, it was also very likely that he wouldn't have found it, or known who it was from. Hermione sighed again. She _really _had to give him back his book. She hadn't even gotten the chance to thank him for it…

All because of that conversation she had happened upon. Most of the time, she regretted knowing everything she did about that Vow and its implications. Hermione had read everything she could find in the Library about the Unbreakable Vow, but her findings had been frustratingly useless, especially given the fact that she was unaware of the exact wording of both Voldemort's task for Malfoy and Professor Snape's Vow. She shuddered at the thought of the headmaster's death. It was simply unacceptable in her mind; he was their leader, he guided and supervised everything. He was a part of history, a part of Hogwarts and of their lives. How could they possibly stand a chance against Evil without him?

Such thoughts had plagued Hermione even in her sleep. And the worst part was having to keep it all a secret, especially from Harry and Ron. In a way, she understood the headmaster's decision not to tell Harry; he would only be miserable and feel helpless… '_Like you feel now_' Hermione told herself. Then there was the matter of his connection to _Voldemort_'s mind. Still, she felt that he ought to know, he was the most important link in the chain that was to bind Voldemort for good.

Hermione leaned into her chair, forgetting about her surroundings. If she couldn't be honest with her friends and talk to them openly, she should try to be fair towards Professor Snape. She owed him more than a thank you; she owed him an apology too. Perhaps she would make amends this very same day. Yes, it was the right thing to do, she told herself, making up her mind. It was time to 'face the beast', Hermione thought smirking. After lunch or maybe –

Her thoughts were interrupted by the chimes of a clock. Hermione looked around in confusion and then in horror. She only had thirty minutes left before class ended and she had to finish the assignment. Damn her tendency to get caught up – and lost, she added critically – in her thoughts! It was happening more and more frequently. Anxious and panicked, she picked up her quill, hoping she would manage to have a reasonable essay by the end of class, and wrote as fast as her hand – and her inclination to over-think the formulation of sentences – allowed her.

………

By the end of the day, sitting in the Great Hall next to her friends, Hermione threw discreet glances towards the Slytherin table. Malfoy was there, looking rather put out for some reason, and his colleagues were either unaware of it, or they simply didn't care, as they all ate and spoke animatedly. The older students appeared to be present, all of them; at least as far as Hermione could tell. She had postponed her dreaded 'visit' to the dungeons during lunch, but now she would find no more excuses to avoid it. She probably deserved everything he would say to her anyway.

After eating a few more bites, she prepared to leave, gathering her things and brushing the crumbs of bread from her clothes. Harry and Ron looked up and stared at her in confusion, waiting for her to say something. Hermione tried to keep her expression indifferent as she told them she had to leave before it got too late.

"I borrowed a book a few weeks ago and it's about time I returned it" she said, telling herself that it _was _the truth, even if misleading and incomplete. "I've kept it for far too long." Her friends accepted her excuse without comment; it was, after all, nothing short of common for her; but Ron's gaze lingered on her for a few more moments, until she smiled reassuringly. "I'll see you guys in the Common Room" she added as she stood to leave, looking towards the Slytherin table one last time. Good; they were all still eating.

The moment the doors of the Great Hall closed behind her, Hermione broke into a sprint, holding her bag to her chest to stifle the noise and rustle of books and parchment rolls and quills. She slowed down when she reached the corridor that lead to Professor Snape's office, inhaling deeply, so she could calm her rapid breathing. Hermione waited a few more moments in front of the office, listening, but there were no sounds from behind the door. She analysed the label stating that this was the office of "Prof. Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House", and followed the small silver snake with her eyes, as it slithered in and out of the House crest.

Staring at the silver letters, Hermione clearly recalled every unfair thing he had done, every cruel word she had heard from him, all the mockery and belittling, the unpleasant, sneering and scowling face. In the past weeks, the only image she had associated with Professor Snape, had been the one of a strong, powerful wizard, of the man who had held a passionate lecture about magic, the very same one who had sent her a book…

Hermione shook her head. 'This changes nothing' – the words from his first note floated before her eyes. He would _not_ be understanding, he would most certainly _not_ accept her sincere apology and would, instead, take every opportunity to criticise her in all possible ways.

'_Well…at least you know what to expect,_' she told herself. With one last deep breath, half of her hoping he would be there, the other half that he wouldn't, Hermione knocked on the wooden door and felt a small surge of magic as her knuckles touched it. She braced herself for his anger and vicious tongue as she waited, but there was no answer, no noise from within, so she knocked again after a while. But nothing broke the silence inside the professor's office. '_A silencing charm_?' she wondered. Hermione waited a moment longer and decided to try one last time; after all, third time's the charm, she told herself and knocked again.

She was about to turn around and leave when she heard faint footsteps from behind the door. Hermione straightened her back and braced herself. He would surely be even angrier with her because of her persistence…she had probably bothered him. '_You probably bother him all the time_' she thought bitterly, just as the door unlocked and opened.

Hermione looked up, opening her mouth to greet him, but her words froze on her tongue at the sight of her professor. Never before had she seen him wear anything other than his usual heavy robes, not even that day at Grimmauld Place. And there he was, standing in the doorway in a black, long-sleeved shirt and equally black trousers – probably what he always wore beneath the long robes. She blinked a few times in surprise, looking at his too-thin frame, until he growled "Yes?" in an impatient tone.

"Good evening, professor" she whispered and watched as his frown deepened.

………………

Severus cursed under his breath. He had just sat down on the couch, a book in his hand, when the wards to his office alerted him that someone was knocking. He made to stand, but then decided against it. It was surely a student; his colleagues would have flooed or looked for him directly in his quarters… Or, more likely, they would have avoided him. And it was late, well past his office hours. But just as he settled back in the soft cushions, whoever it was knocked again.

Malfoy. It was probably him again. Would he break any part of the Vow by ignoring him – if it really was him? Severus sighed and stood. He didn't think so, but somehow, he had taken pity on the boy; it was not an easy or desirable situation he found himself in, and he had gotten into it rather unwillingly. He made his way towards the corridor that linked his rooms with the office and another knock reached his ears, just as he was closing the corridor's door, entering the office. '_Perhaps_ _it's_ _urgent_', he thought, '_Something_ _wrong'_. He hurried to the door, un-warded and opened it and was met with…silence. For a brief moment he thought that whoever it had been had left, but then he heard the short intakes of breath and he could almost feel the warm air through his clothing.

"Yes?" he demanded impatiently and immediately a whispering voice greeted him. Granger. He felt both relieved that there was no emergency, as well as annoyed by her presence. What did she want from him this time? Congratulations for her spying abilities? In all honesty, he was still irritated by his own lack of caution and by the irony of being the spy who had been spied on. He needed no reminder.

"Miss Granger, I'm sure you are aware of what time it is" he drawled. "Thirty points from Gryffindor and you would do well to refrain from bothering me outside my office-hours again."

She was uncommonly quiet, making no objection to the rather large amount of points he had taken. Apparently she had learnt that much, that protesting never helped with him. It did make the whole situation far less entertaining for him, though.

"Now, if you are done with wasting my time…" Severus made to close the door but she stopped him with her plea.

"Please, sir, wait!" She took a small step towards him and lowered her voice. "Sir, I _know_ it's late and that I am bothering you," – at this, he raised a disbelieving eyebrow – "but I…really had to talk to you, if you could just give me a few minutes…"

Severus thought he knew very well what she wanted to say. She was about to join Draco Malfoy's 'Apologise to Professor Snape Movement'. He smirked and crossed his arms in a forbidding gesture.

"No, Miss Granger, I believe I _won't_," he replied maliciously. "I'm rather disinclined to listening to whatever nonsense you came to inflict upon me."

Severus heard her sharp intake of breath and suppressed his amusement. She was so predictable, so easily baited. It was strange that he knew her so well and yet didn't know her at all at the same time. Her behaviour was easy to foresee, but he knew next to nothing about her. Nor did he particularly wish to. Her appearance was blurry in his mind now, but he could still picture the restless, eager little girl, with her wild hair and her continuously waving hand in his mind. She had truly earned the nickname she so loathed. _Miss_ _Know-it-all_…Severus almost chuckled.

Her hesitating voice brought his attention back to the present and he leaned against the door, knowing that she would not be able to let it go and leave. And the next moment he was proven right.

"Sir, I only wanted to say that I'm sorry," her soft voice said. Before he managed to reply, she continued. "I know I should have told you all this a lot sooner, sir, but…well, my mother says it's never _too_ late to apologise."

Severus narrowed his eyes, a gesture he had not managed to rid himself of since he had been blinded. Her mother…He had never heard her mention any of her parents before. Had _his_ mother ever told him that? Probably not, he pondered. She was never one to give advice. Severus had rarely apologised to anyone in his life. And the times that he had received forgiveness had been rarer still. '_Is it ever too late to be forgiven?_' he wondered.

"Please believe me, sir that I didn't mean to be disrespectful that day" Miss Granger spoke after a while, probably encouraged by his silence. "I know I should have…turned around and left when I saw you with Malfoy in the corridor."

"And yet you stayed" Severus interrupted. "Do you perhaps think that the intention really counts more than the actual deed?" he asked, but it was clear _he_ did not think so.

"N-no, sir" she stammered. "It's just that…it was such an odd scene that…my feet seemed rooted to the ground. I felt that I couldn't move and then…after what you said to him…I _wouldn't_ move either" she confessed. "It was just…frightening, I guess. I admit that I was shocked and scared and –"

"You, Miss Granger? Scared?" Severus interjected. "I thought your alleged Gryffindor courage would never fail you," he continued in the same mock-surprised voice.

She swallowed hard and Severus could almost see her choke on her own pride, determined to bear his stings and thorns without retort. And without point-loss.

"I wish it wouldn't" she whispered more to herself.

Severus raised his brows. "Really now, Miss Granger; don't tell me you have finally discovered that you are, most unfortunately, _not_ perfect!" He smirked sarcastically, but was surprised to hear her snort.

"I'm afraid I have, sir," she replied. "Quite some time ago, actually, but it keeps getting worse."

Severus was quiet for a while, trying to figure out if her answer was self-ridicule – which, he had to admit, he was surprised to find she possessed – or just false modesty. She had seemed honest though, and he really _was_ difficult to fool, even now when he could not see her expression. Shaking his head he chased the thought away, dispersing it like smoke, and decided to ask her something he had been curious about.

"What were you doing in the dungeons that Sunday, Miss Granger?" he demanded.

Severus heard her fidget for a moment before she answered. "That's another thing I wanted to talk to you about, professor. I was actually on my way to your office that afternoon, sir," she explained. "I wanted to thank you in person for the book you've lent me but…I never got the chance to actually do so."

For a moment he could not remember what book she was referring to, but then it dawned on him. And he was doing it again, he realised; talking in the open about something that others should not know. He doubted that his Slytherins would appreciate the 'kind gesture' of lending a Gryffindor a book…

"Inside," he ordered as he stepped away from the door and motioned for her to follow him. Severus heard her steps and felt the air move as she passed by, a faint flowery smell lingering behind her. He closed the door and walked to his desk, aware of the curious eyes that watched him as he used the wall and shelves for guidance. He did not sit down, nor did he ask her to have a seat. _Let _her be uncomfortable, that was the whole idea, he thought. They waited in silence for a few moments, until Miss Granger could stand it no more and spoke.

"Thank you, professor," she said earnestly. A soft rustling sound followed her voice and Severus focused on it, trying to guess what she was doing.

"Shall I leave it on your desk, sir?" she asked. "Your book, I mean." He nodded and immediately could hear her walk towards him. Her robes brushed against his feet and the scent of flowers reached his nostrils again as she placed the object on the wooden surface of the desk and then turned towards him. Severus inhaled deeply, savouring the discreet smell. '_Jasmine_' he thought, recognizing it immediately. He was suddenly overcome by the desire to walk through a garden of flowers, to become lost in their perfume, to hear the symphony of birds that would surely be present there as well. But it was still winter outside and winter in his mind.

"It was fascinating." Her voice brought him out of his reverie and Severus became aware of her proximity. He took a small step away from the girl, but he could still distinguish the jasmine smell. "Thank you again, sir for trusting me with it. It must be a very old and rare text…" she continued absently. "I promise you that I didn't damage it in any way, professor."

No, of course she wouldn't, Severus thought. "Rest assured, Miss Granger, that once I will see again I will verify that you are indeed telling the truth. I shall not repeat the mistake of trusting you." She gasped upon hearing what she surely considered to be an unjust remark.

In all honesty, he would probably _have_ to trust her if Albus was serious about the girl's role. Not that he really thought she wasn't trust worthy in the first place, but he had been far too tolerant towards her during their past encounters.

A few moments later she asked in a small voice, "So, do you think you will regain your sight soon, professor?"

"_That_ is none of your business, Miss Granger," he snapped. "It will be ten points from Gryffindor for your rude nosiness." Really, what made her think she was entitled to know everything? "I suggest you _leave_ unless you wish to lose even more points for your House, and I can assure you that it would be my pleasure to relieve Gryffindor of its preposterously large amount of points." He _did_ suspect that her House's points were quite high now, after three weeks of his absence. Severus walked towards the door, making it clear for her the she was to get out, but her voice stopped him mid-way.

"Professor, can I ask you something about a theory from the book? Please, sir," she added. As he pondered his options, Miss Granger stepped closer but she remained silent.

"You obviously _can_, Miss Granger, the question is if I will answer you." He smirked, waiting for her reply, but she didn't seem to know what to say.

"One question, Miss Granger, and I don't guarantee that I will answer it."

"Thank you, sir!" she exclaimed hastily and wasted no time to address her inquiry. "I've heard about this before and it was briefly mentioned in 'Bereshith' too, but I don't really understand the concept," she began. "It says that the spell caster must attribute meaning to the performed magic, so he or she must _mean_ it, but what I don't understand is if all spells require that we…consciously mean them, sir. Because most of the times when I perform a spell or charm I don't really think about it…it comes naturally somehow, without my thinking that I _want_ to do this."

She had spoken so fast and without pause that she was breathing rapidly, breaking the otherwise perfect silence. Severus had to admit that her question was…pertinent, although she should probably be able to figure at least part of the answer out.

"Most of the spells you perform more often, Miss Granger, are, no doubt, spells that you have used for a long time, spells you are familiar with. They are also simpler spells and they do not require a lot of magical energy." Severus ran a hand through his hair, shifting his weight on the other leg before he continued. "I'm sure you will remember that you did _mean_ even a banal levitation charm the first time you performed it, so practice is quite important in this case also."

He heard her whisper 'Oh' and then she asked, "Practice? That was all? So only new and more difficult spells demand our deliberate thought…" she trailed off.

"Not necessarily," Severus corrected. "Usually, the spells that alter the object or person they are cast upon, and particularly those that hurt them necessitate consciously meaning the curse. I'm sure you can at least realise that dark magic is the one that requires meaning most of all." She gasped and muttered 'Of course' in a tone that betrayed her annoyance with herself.

"Because they are so taxing to one's magic and mind?" she asked.

"Yes, that is one reason, but also because magic, by nature, is not evil, it is not supposed to be used to do harm and I assume you know now, after reading 'Bereshith', that our ancestors _did_ really use magic for benign purposes only. That is why, when performing dark spells, curses, our magic needs…let's say a _confirmation_ that we truly want to use it that way."

The room was quiet for a while and Severus wished, for perhaps the millionth time, that he could see and know what she was doing.

"I had no idea the magic within us has some sort of…awareness," she said softly and Severus was pleased to hear the awe in her voice.

"Yes, I suppose it does," he said. "Ironically, healing charms, especially the more powerful ones, demand a purposeful thought as well, an intention. That is probably due to the fact that a healing charm transfers your magic onto someone else. All other spells are used more or less to help _oneself_, but in healing we are not the ones who benefit from our own magic."

"How do you know all these things, sir?" she demanded in astonishment but Severus pressed his lips in a thin line.

"Again, Miss Granger, none of your business and I believe you've asked more than your share of questions for one evening." As he spoke, Severus turned towards the door again, determined to send her away this time.

She followed close behind him but then, before he opened the door: "Sir?" she asked weakly. He spun abruptly and failed to feel his robed twisting around his legs in the usual fashion. It was then that he realised that he wasn't wearing them, so of _course_ they couldn't twist around his legs! He did not let the embarrassment surface though.

"No, Miss Granger, you will ask no more questions. I have tolerated more than the single bargained question earlier because they were related to the topic, but now you will silently remove yourself from my office before I –"

"I only wanted to ask about the Defence Against the Dark Arts classes, sir," she interrupted in a rush. It caught him off guard and for a moment he did not know how to respond.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger," he said when he finally recovered. "And do not interrupt me again." His voice was icy and he ignored her apology, but he did not throw her out. Despite himself, Severus was curious. He sighed and shook his head.

"What about the Defence classes?"

She said nothing at first, probably too shocked that he had changed his mind. '_Lost my mind_' Severus corrected mentally.

"Well…I was just wondering, sir. Are you the one who, uhm, gives the assignments and grades them?"

Severus' eyes widened instinctively. How did she know? How had she guessed? Only Albus and Minerva knew, and they had promised to tell no one else. '_And if she had already known for certain, she would not have asked,_' he concluded. So she had figured it out… Then again, she was quite good at solving puzzles and riddles; she had proven that from her first year. Sometimes, he really gave the girl too little credit, he thought. And too much criticism.

"How did you come to this conclusion, Miss Granger?"

She hesitated for a few seconds, but then she answered. "The comments on the essays…they have your style, sir."

Severus snorted. "Indeed."

"But how? How do you do it, professor?" she asked pleadingly.

The stillness rang in his ears as he considered what to do. Send her away or tell her? Severus cupped his chin. '_Might as well…_' he decided. He walked around her, towards the desk and smirked at her disappointed sigh.

"Come with me, Miss Granger!"

Immediately, her light steps followed him and this time, when they reached the desk he asked her to sit down. Severus searched for a piece of parchment in one of the drawers and held it out to her.

"Use the quill from the desk and write something on the parchment," he instructed. "The ink should be to your left." The soft noises that followed told him she was doing as told.

"What should I write, sir?" she asked.

"It doesn't _matter_, Miss Granger, a sentence, whatever you want; and _do_ hurry, before I change my mind."

The next moment the quill's scratches on the parchment reached his ears. Then she pushed the parchment across the desk until it touched his hand. Severus turned it towards himself and took out his wand. Pointing it at the parchment, he performed the familiar pattern and felt as his magic infused the scrap. His wand moved again and he said 'Lege Scriptor' in a commanding tone.

Instantly, Hermione Granger's voice spoke from the parchment: '_The_ _ink_ _should_ _be_ _to_ _your_ _left'_. The real Miss Granger started and gasped, knocking her chair to the ground as she stood up.

"How on Earth did you do that, sir?" she asked shakily. Her reaction was rather amusing to Severus and he could clearly picture her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide.

"You realised, I hope, that the spell consisted of two parts?" he asked rhetorically and continued his explanation. "Basically, what I have done in the first part, was charm the parchment with magic similar to the one used for Howlers. However, the charm is slightly modified, as I do not wish to have a scrap of parchment or a book shout at me, nor do I want to have them burn on my desk. Quite obviously, the second part makes the written words resound in the voice of the person who has written them," he finished. It was a clever piece of magic and he was rather proud of it.

So when he heard her chuckle a few moments later, Severus was understandably irritated. Crossing his arms on his chest he spat: "Might I know what you find so amusing, Miss Granger?" The chuckle turned into a giggle and when it finally subsided she drew in a deep breath.

"I was just wondering, sir…is there _anything_ that you can't do?"

Severus blinked, standing still as a mountain. But then, slowly, although Severus tried his best to control it, a corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile.

"Apparently, I cannot get you to _leave_ from my office, Miss Granger," he replied, shaking his head in amusement.

"I'm sorry, professor," she said, "it wasn't my intention to bother you for so long, but…well…I'll just go, then," she stammered.

Severus heard her footsteps and followed her to the door. Before opening it, she turned towards him, thanking him for the book and for his time and for showing her his invention and – she would have surely thanked him for something else, but Severus reached for the handle and opened the door.

He felt her step out cautiously and, thankfully, without a protestation. She whispered 'Good night', but he did not answer. And when the door closed behind her, Severus finally smiled fully.

* * *

Author's Notes

I hope you liked the chapter; it will really have _meaning _for the story's plot!

Everything about the spells is pure speculation, of course.

'Lege Scriptor' means 'Read, writer!' in Latin.

Leave a review, should you feel inclined to do so :)


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